Seeds of Discord
by Gemini Artemis
Summary: Loki and his family before they were exiled and imprisoned. Warning: there may be spoilers for the manga series.
1. Secrets and Lies

**Disclaimer**: Matantei Loki Ragnarok belongs to Sakura Kinoshita, not me. I make no profit from this.

* * *

– **CHAPTER 1 –**

_**Secrets and Lies  
**_

It was a nice, calm day in Jotunheim, or at least as nice and calm as it was possible to be in the land of giants. In fact, it was so peaceful that it gave Loki an eerie feeling. He was already a little ill at ease after having sneaked out of Asgard without telling anyone where he was really going, and all the way to Jotunheim he had been looking over his shoulders to make sure he wasn't being followed. Now, as he went through the dark Ironwood in Jotunheim, he kept looking around guardedly, as if expecting someone – or something – to jump him at any moment.

He didn't normally get this nervous when he did something he knew he wasn't supposed to be doing. Quite the contrary, he sometimes took much amusement from it and was very laid-back even when things started to get a little messy. This time, however, he felt as though there was someone watching him all the time, following his every movement, and it was really getting on his nerves. The unnatural silence in these dark woods only exacerbated his paranoia.

Nevertheless, his journey was completely uneventful and he eventually reached his destination, a relatively large yet modest abode that was mostly obscured by great trees and shadows. If he didn't already know it was there, he might have completely overlooked it. This was quite deliberate; not many in this realm wanted others to know where they lived.

He stood before the wooden door and knocked quietly, knowing the sounds would be heard even if they were almost inaudible to his own ears. The door creaked open slightly and he blinked at it in surprise. After a moment of hesitation, he opened it further and slowly allowed himself in.

"Hello?" he called out, not very loudly, as he looked around. At the sound of soft steps, he looked up at the tall young woman who had just come into sight. She smiled warmly at him.

"Welcome back, Lord Loki," she said. Loki smiled back at her.

"Hello, Angrboda," he said. "And what have I told you? It's just 'Loki'."

Before she had the chance to reply, a small, black figure zoomed into the room and jumped on Loki, shouting, "Daddy! You're back!" Loki looked down at the little wolf that was his son while holding him in his arms.

"Fenrir!" said Loki, grinning when his son affectionately licked his face. "Of course I'm back! I did promise you I'd come back, didn't I?" He said so with much sincerity in his voice, although he admittedly felt a little guilty. While he had indeed promised he would return to see his giant children again, he was a little late. Well, maybe more than just a little late. Actually, he couldn't even remember when was the last time he had come to see them, and the promise to visit them had completely escaped his mind until recently. But he wasn't going to admit that out loud.

Thankfully, neither Fenrir nor Angrboda questioned him about it. They were just happy to see him again after so long, Loki supposed, feeling even more guilty.

He then noticed two small figures lurking by the door, watching him inconspicuously. One was a little girl who was partly standing behind the wall, so that only the right half of her body was visible to Loki. Next to the her feet was the other figure, a dark green serpent whose forked tongue was flickering curiously in his direction. As strange as it might have seem to anyone else, those two were also Loki's children. He smiled tentatively at them.

"Come on, you two," Angrboda told them encouragingly. "Won't you greet your father?"

The first to move was the snake, who slithered forwards slowly but unhesitatingly, curled up a good few feet away from Loki, and looked up at him, his reptilian eyes unblinking and unreadable.

"Welcome back, Father," he said politely, almost reverently, and lowered his head as if bowing. One might as well have thought he was Loki's lowly servant rather than his son. He had always been so very formal, even at such a young age. That made dealing with him a little awkward at times, and now was a good example.

"Hello, Jormungand," Loki replied, with a little less enthusiasm than when he had greeted Fenrir. The contrast between Fenrir's reception and Jormungand's was so great, they were like polar opposites. "And hello to you, too, Hel," he said to the little girl, trying to sound as cheerful as possible, while she shyly approached.

"Hello, Father," she whispered in response, unsmiling. Without quite noticing what he was doing, Loki found himself staring at the half of her body that had been hidden until now. It was slightly decaying flesh, and his nose instinctively wrinkled before he caught himself.

Loki felt quite lost. He didn't have much experience with this. What did fathers do when meeting their children for the first time in years? Hug them, maybe? His gaze quickly flickered in Hel's direction, particularly her left half. Maybe not. Besides, Jormungand didn't look too keen on getting any closer, either. Desperately, he racked his brain for something to break the ice.

"Um. Wow, you've all grown up so much!" he remarked. There, that sounded fatherly enough, didn't it? At least Fenrir responded positively by wagging his tail.

"You can only tell because it's been ages since you saw us," said Hel, looking very unamused, a hint of reproach in her voice.

"Hel!" Angrboda chastised her gently.

Loki wondered if he should apologise and give them some lame excuse for his lateness or just keep his mouth shut and try to change the subject. Before he could decide, however, Fenrir growled at his sister.

"You shouldn't talk to Daddy like that! You don't know anything about him or what he's been doing! I'm sure he has a very good reason for not coming to visit us earlier. He must've been very busy." The puppy turned back to Loki, grinning. "Isn't that right, Daddy?"

"Er, yes, right," said Loki.

"See?" Fenrir told Hel triumphantly. The girl flushed and ducked her head.

"I'm sorry, Father," she murmured contritely.

"Er..." Loki shifted uncomfortably. "That's all right, Hel, I –"

"Daddy!" Fenrir cut in happily. "I bet you have a lot of stories to tell us, don't you? Come on, tell us all about your adventures!"

"Of course, Fenrir..."

Angrboda grinned and clapped her hands. "Wonderful! I'll make you something to eat!"

oOo

For the rest of the evening, Loki told them many stories, both old and new, conveniently emphasising his own feats and wit and leaving out the parts he was less proud of. Occasionally, he would even make some alterations and additions to the story – just to make it more interesting for the children, of course (he was allowed some artistic licence, right?).

At least it accomplished the desired result; the awkwardness had dissipated and his three children all had their gazes fixed on him, captivated, their eyes filled with unmasked awe and wonder. Even Angrboda had been quietly listening and smiling as if proud of him. Loki shamelessly relished in the attention he was getting and soaked up all the admiration.

"And that's how I single-handedly saved all the gods in Asgard and made sure the sun and the moon stayed where they should be," he concluded the last tale, "with just my magic and quick thinking."

"Wow!" "Amazing!" "You're so clever, Father!"

"Oh, that was nothing," said Loki airily, polishing his nails on his coat. "All in a day's work, one might say."

"And what happened to the stallion that was chasing you?" asked Jormungand, who was coiled up at his feet, next to Hel. "How did you get rid of him?"

Loki paused and considered his next words. As matter of fact, he _hadn't_ got rid of the stallion Svadilfari, but he wasn't about to tell them what exactly had happened when that beast had caught him up. Nor would he tell the result of such an encounter. It was not only embarrassing, but it would incite all kinds of uncomfortable questions, such as, "Where do babies come from?" It was bad enough that he'd admitted that he had transformed himself into a mare in order to distract Svadilfari. The children didn't need to know the details...

"I eventually turned back to my original form and he lost interest in me," he answered simply. That was close enough to the truth, he thought.

"Aah..." The children nodded in understanding.

"Now that you said it, that was the most obvious thing to do, really."

"Indeed," said Loki neutrally. On his lap, Fenrir began to wag his tail again.

"The gods must all consider you a hero!"

"Hmm, yes, something like that."

"Did they give you some kind of reward? Did they throw a party for you?"

Loki frowned slightly to himself. He wanted to say yes, but, for some reason, that felt awfully wrong. Omitting and exaggerating certain facts was one thing, but outright lying to his children, who held him in such high regard, gave him a very unpleasant feeling. This was new, and he didn't like it one bit. Even when he had lied to his wife Sigyn, he hadn't felt so wretched.

"Actually," he said reluctantly, "they didn't have the chance. I stayed away for a few months, because I had some important things to take care of."

"Ooh, what kind of things?" "Is that another exciting story? Tell us, please!"

"Now, now, children," Loki cut in with a forced grin. "It's very late and you should be in bed." At the trio's whining protests and pleas, he sighed and added, "Tell you what, how about we all go out for a stroll early tomorrow morning? Then we can spend the entire day together!"

Much to his relief, the three of them readily agreed. Then, the two youngest bade their parents good night and went to sleep. Fenrir, however, remained on his father's lap and patiently waited until his siblings were gone.

"Can I sleep with you, Daddy?" he beseeched. Even Loki couldn't resist those puppy eyes.

"Oh, all right," he said. "But you go ahead. I may take a while."

"Okay! Thanks, Daddy!" The little wolf leapt off Loki, said good night to his mother, and left.

Loki then finally allowed himself to collapse on the armchair in a rather ungainly fashion, covering his face with his hand and feeling drained. He uncovered his eyes and looked up when he heard a quiet laugh from Angrboda.

"For someone who claims to hate children, you're not such a bad father," she remarked.

He sat straight up again and cleared his throat, averting his gaze. Despite her serene smile and kind words, he knew she must be wondering why he had been gone for so long. From the moment they had met earlier today, he had seen the wistfulness in her eyes. _She must be dying to know what I've been doing all this time_, he thought.

Suddenly, he wished he hadn't sent the children to bed. Now that they were no longer present, would Angrboda interrogate and accuse him? He wasn't really in the mood to explain himself. Should he apologise? Should he make up some excuse or other? Or should he just pretend nothing was wrong and go to sleep before she had a chance to do anything?

The sound of steps and rustling caught his attention and he looked back at Angrboda, who had come to stand before him. They stared at each other for a long while, and Loki watched as her the wistfulness slowly receded from her dark eyes and her smile widened. Slowly, she bent over so she was at eye level with him and touched the side of his face.

"We missed you so much," she whispered, her face closer and closer. Loki forced himself to sit still and relax. "I'm just glad you're here now." She closed the distance between them, though, contrary to his expectations, she only gave him a chaste, light kiss on the forehead.

Surprised, Loki stared at her for a moment before he comprehended what she had meant. She wasn't angry at all. There would be no questions, no accusations, no arguments. All was forgiven and forgotten.

He gave her a genuine smile in return.

"Thank you," he whispered.

oOo

Loki deeply regretted his suggestion to go out for a stroll first thing in the morning. He had never been much of a morning person, and he should have guessed that his children would wake him just when the sun was barely above the horizon. He groaned and tried to ignore his children, who were screaming at the top of their lungs for him to wake up and jumping up and down on his bed as well as on his person.

"Come on, Daddy!" urged Fenrir, tugging at his father's sleeve with his teeth. His two siblings had long robbed Loki of his blanket and pillow, so that Loki couldn't even cover his ringing head any more.

"All right! I'm up! I'm up!" he finally announced in defeat.

After a very hurried breakfast and a quick farewell to Angrboda, he was practically dragged outside. Fenrir was the most excited of all, hopping and running in circles around Loki and yapping happily. By contrast, Hel just stood next to her father quietly, looking very shy. Loki smiled at her and offered his hand – he was careful to offer his _left_ hand, so he would take her right, healthy hand. She squinted a little at him, smiled back, and took it. At last, he turned to look at the serpent who was a few feet behind them.

"Jormungand, do you want me to carry you on my shoulders?" he offered, but his youngest son politely declined. He shrugged. "Well, off we go, then!"

Shortly afterwards, it occurred to him that maybe this hadn't been one of his most brilliant ideas, after all, since whatever might have been watching him the previous day could still be out there. He was alert all the time and even warned his children to keep their eyes open for any suspicious creatures, especially ravens. They were puzzled by the request, but agreed to do his bidding without question.

However, he soon realised he could no longer feel any strange presence at all. The woods were neither too quiet nor crowded with the more unfriendly sorts of creatures, so they all began to relax.

"Let's find a nice spot where we can sit and talk," said Hel. "We can have lunch and even spend the rest of the afternoon there."

"What? Nooo, I don't want to stay in the same place four hours!" whined Fenrir. "Let's do something really fun, like – like hunting or... a game! Let's play something!"

"I don't like that!" retorted his sister. "I want Father to tell us more stories!"

"Hmm, looks like we need a tiebreaker," mused Loki. He favoured Hel's idea himself, since he disliked running and hunting (that was more Thor's thing, really), but he didn't have the heart to disappoint the poor puppy just like that. "What do you think, Jormungand?" he suddenly asked, looking back at his youngest son, who still kept himself behind the group for some reason.

"What? Me?!" Jormungand looked very dismayed at the sudden attention he was getting. He looked back and forth between his siblings, who were both giving him meaningful and mildly threatening looks. "Oh. Er. Whatever you choose to do is fine with me, Father..." he said evasively.

"Come on, I really wish to know your opinion," Loki insisted. "Perhaps you can give us a suggestion of your own?"

"Well..." Jormungand shifted uneasily, avoiding his siblings' eyes. "Actually, I was wondering... if you would ever take us to see Asgard, Father."

They stared at him. He squirmed, looking miserable.

"I'm sorry, that was a –"

"Great idea!" cut in Fenrir. "Ooh, Daddy, won't you take us to Asgard? I've never been there and I want to see what it's like!"

"Yes, Father, please!" Hel joined in. "You always tell us so much about it, and it sounds like a wonderful place."

"No," said Loki firmly. His children froze and stared at him in shock. Their father had never denied them anything with such seriousness.

"What? Why not?!" Fenrir wanted to know. "We promise we'll behave!"

"I can't take you to Asgard, and that's final," said Loki, frowning. Then, feeling he might have sounded too harsh, he added in a softer voice, "I'm sorry."

"But why can't you take us to Asgard?" Fenrir insisted.

"People there are not... used to giants, so to speak," Loki sighed. "They'd stare at you. You'd hate it."

"I don't mint that. We can just stare right back until they realise how rude they're being," replied Fenrir, unperturbed, although his two siblings suddenly looked very unenthusiastic at the prospect of being stared at by godly strangers.

"There's nothing special about Asgard, anyway," Loki continued, hoping to dissuade his stubborn son. "It's just like Jotunheim, when we come down to it."

"If you say so, Dad..." mumbled Fenrir. Fortunately, he let the subject drop and none of them mentioned it again.

It wasn't long before they found a nice, secluded spot in the form of a clearing. Loki was feeling quite hungry, which was only to be expected, considering his less than satisfactory breakfast. He had barely been able to eat anything at all before he was forced to leave.

"I guess we should've brought some food with us," said Fenrir, who was also a little hungry. Loki nodded and hummed in agreement. "I'd really rather walk around than lie here and starve," the wolf muttered to himself.

"I could go and pick some berries and mushrooms for us to eat," suggested Hel.

"Thank you, Hel, that'd be great," said Loki, smiling.

"Can I help you, Sister?" asked Jormungand.

"Of course!" she replied happily.

"While they do that," said Fenrir to his father, "why don't we continue our stroll? Who knows, we may even find something to hunt, and then you can make a fire so we can have a proper lunch!"

"Sure, why not?" replied Loki. "We'll meet in this same clearing in, say, one hour. All right? And, Hel, do be careful, okay? You, too, Jormungand."

"Yes, Father!" said the two of them in unison.

"Are you sure you can find your way back here?"

"Yes, Father, no problem!" said Jormungand.

"It's not the first time we venture in these woods by ourselves," said Hel. Loki frowned in apprehension, but nodded and let them go on their way.

oOo

It was almost time to go back to the clearing, and yet Loki and Fenrir had found nothing worth hunting. The little wolf was quite disappointed, both because he wouldn't get to show his father what a great hunter he was and because all they'd have for lunch was a handful of berries and mushrooms. Loki empathised with him on the second point and did his best to cheer him up about the hunting. There would be many other opportunities, he told Fenrir.

"You mean you're going to be living with us from now on?" Fenrir asked him, so full of hope that Loki had to look away before answering.

"No, I can't do that. But don't worry, I'll make sure to visit you much more often. I promise."

"I do hope so! You're so fun, Daddy!"

"Why, so are you, Fenrir."

Feeling contented, they both fell into a companionable silence as they made their way back to the clearing at a leisure pace. Yes, this wasn't so bad, after all, Loki thought. It was a nice break from those madmen he associated with in Asgard. He could get used to this... Perhaps he could even come to visit once a month or so?

"LOKI!"

He let out an exclamation of surprise and whirled around, his heart intent on breaking through his ribcage. Next to him, Fenrir, who had also had the daylights scared out of him, turned to look at whoever had called out and began to growl.

A brown-haired man about the same age as Loki was running towards them, brandishing a huge, impressive hammer and waving his free hand in the air. Loki was ready to summon his Laevateinn to defend himself against the alleged berserker, but when the man was close enough, he was able to recognise who it was and allowed himself to relax.

"It's just Thor," he sighed. He looked down at Fenrir and paled when it occurred to him that it would be very bad indeed if Thor found out what and who the wolf was. "Don't say a word, Fenrir," he whispered, barely moving his lips. Fenrir looked at him in confusion, but nodded in acquiescence.

"Hey, Loki!" Thor greeted him cheerfully as he came to a halt before his old friend.

"Hi, Thor," replied Loki, with a little less enthusiasm. "What are you doing here?" He glanced over his shoulder, hoping his two other children wouldn't show up while Thor was present. If they had heard his shout, which was very likely, considering he had shouted loudly enough to wake the dead, Loki hoped they would have the good sense to stay out of sight, at least.

"I'm on my way back to Asgard," answered Thor, resting his hammer, Mjolnir, on his shoulder. He tilted his head. "The question is, what are _you_ doing here?"

"I'm on my way to Midgard," said Loki wryly. Next to him, Fenrir was eyeing Thor curiously, sniffing his legs and the air around him. Thor's attention was brought to the puppy.

"What's that?"

"A wolf puppy." Loki shrugged. "Must have got lost from its mother." Fenrir looked at him oddly at that. Loki gave him a meaningful look and nodded his head in Thor's direction as subtly as possible. Fortunately, Thor was too busy watching Fenrir to notice either gesture.

"Hmm, yeah. I hope it can find her soon. Anyway, what were you going to do in Midgard?" Thor asked Loki, quickly losing interest in Fenrir.

"Oh, nothing in particular. I was just bored."

"Well, then, why don't you come with me to Asgard? You can come over for dinner. I'm sure Sif won't mind. And if you're still bored, we can go back to Midgard later!"

"Umm..."

"Come on! If we hurry up, we may still get there in time for lunch!"

"I –" Loki began to protest, but Thor had already grabbed him by the arm and begun to drag him away.

Fenrir, who had sat down and watched the exchange quietly, got up and began to follow them. Loki looked back at him and held up his free hand for Fenrir to stop. He mouthed, "Don't follow us! Find your siblings," he gestured, "and go back home!" Fenrir didn't quite seem to understand any of it and opened his mouth to speak. Hurriedly, Loki brought a finger to his lips in a gesture of silence. Fenrir's mouth snapped shut. "I'll come back later!" said Loki in a stage whisper. His son nodded in understanding, but didn't look pleased at all with this turn of events.

"What was that, Loki?" Thor asked.

"Uh, I said, we'll go back later. To Midgard, that is."

"All right!"

oOo

As soon as Loki and his hammer-wielding companion were well out of sight, Hel and Jormungand came out from the bushes to join Fenrir, who was glaring in the direction the two men had gone.

"Who was that, Brother?" asked Jormungand.

"And where did Father go?" Hel wanted to know. She was holding the front part of her dress in a bundle of berries and mushrooms, some of which dropping to the ground.

"That was the god Thor," growled Fenrir. "And he's taking our dad to Asgard." He glanced at his brother and sister. "Dad told us to go home and that he'll come back later."

Hel pouted. "That's what he said last time. And look how long it took him to come back!"

"Yes, well, I'm sure he won't take as long this time," said Jormungand, trying to appease her. "I mean, he wouldn't just leave us here in the woods when he promised he would spend the entire day with us. Even if he can't make it today, certainly tomorrow, then..."

"_I_ think something fishy is going on," said Fenrir brusquely. "Dad wanted this Thor guy to believe that I was some lost puppy he'd just found in the woods, and he didn't let me speak at all. I wonder why?"

"Now that you mention it, I did wonder why he refused to take us to Asgard," mused Jormungand.

"Maybe it's got something to do with why the took so long to visit us again," suggested Hel, who was still unable to let go of that particular issue.

"Maybe," conceded her younger brother, although their father's lateness didn't seem to have much important to him at all. "You know, I can't help but feel that he is keeping us as some sort of secret. It's like he doesn't want anyone to know we are related to him. Do you think –" He hesitated and coiled himself tightly, as he always did when he felt nervous. "Do you think he's ashamed of us?" he whispered.

Hel's eyes widened, disturbed as she was by the notion, but Fenrir only scoffed.

"Why would he be ashamed of us?" He thought about it for a second. "Well, _you_, maybe," he said, sneering. "You're just a stupid, useless snake, after all. I wouldn't want you as a son, either."

"That – that's not true!" protested his brother.

"But what's not to like about _me_?" Fenrir continued, ignoring him. "He loves me more than you, that much is obvious. That's why he hugs and pets me, even though he never touches you, and he lets me sleep on his bed, and he never feels uncomfortable when he's talking to me!"

Jormungand hissed and his lithe body shook with barely suppressed emotion. He uncoiled himself and reared up, looking like he was about to strike. Fenrir assumed a defensive position and growled.

"You're so mean, Brother!" yelled Jormungand, whipping his tail against a few mushrooms that Hel had unwittingly dropped next to him. The mushrooms were thrown up in the air and some of them hit the wolf in the head and muzzle. Fenrir yelped and winced, more out of surprise than anything. He looked up in time to see his little brother slithering into the bushes.

"Coward," he muttered.

"Poor Jormungand," whispered Hel to herself as she stared after him. Then, she turned to give her older brother a reproachful look. "That _was_ very mean, Brother."

Fenrir scoffed, sitting back down and scratching his ear nonchalantly. "He'll get over it."

"You were never this cruel to him. And on top of that, you completely forgot about me. You think you're better than us, do you?"

"What?" Fenrir blinked and looked at her in alarm. He hadn't really been paying attention, but when her words caught up to him, he decided he didn't want another sibling to throw a fit. "Uh, no, not at all. I'm sure Dad loves you, too," he added, not managing to sound very convincing. Time to change the subject, he thought, shaking himself, "Listen, I'm going to go after Dad. Are you coming with me?"

Hel, who had angrily knelt down and begun to pick up the dropped mushrooms, looked up at him in shock. "What are you talking about? You can't do that, Brother!"

"What do you mean? Of course I can!"

"You said he's going to Asgard! You don't know the way, for one thing."

"No, but I can easily follow his scent."

"It doesn't matter. You're not allowed to go there, anyway."

"I'll keep myself out of his sight. He won't even know I'm there. So what's the harm?"

Hel's frown deepened and she folded her hands, which caused all the mushrooms to drop again. She didn't even notice it.

"We can't just leave without telling Mother," she said with an air of finality.

"If we tell her where we're going, she'll want to stop us," argued Fenrir. "Come on, Hel! Aren't you curious to see Asgard?"

"Of course I am, but..." She hesitated, casting a wistful look in the direction their father had disappeared with the god Thor. She turned around so her back was to Fenrir and bowed her head. "I don't want to be stared at," she muttered.

"No one will stare at you, Hel! And if they do, I'll bite them!"

Hel only shook her head adamantly.

"Fine," Fenrir sighed. "Suit yourself."

He turned around, sniffed the air and the ground, and ran off after his father, not once looking back.


	2. Asgard

– **CHAPTER 2 –**

_**Asgard**_

Fenrir didn't even notice the moment he left Jotunheim and entered Asgard. He only concentrated on following his father's trail and was aware that they were going through a long stretch of woodland. For all he knew, they could be walking in circles in Jotunheim. If this was Asgard, his father hadn't been lying when he'd said it was uninterestingly like the land of giants. Even after he left the woods and crossed a river, all he could see were deserted, vast open fields and a few steep mountains.

He had no idea how long they had been travelling, as the sun seemed never to move in the sky, but Fenrir was certain it had been at the very least a couple of hours. Yet, it felt like they had covered a very long distance that, by all means, should have taken them days.

Eventually, though, he saw a great, solid wall and a gate ahead of him. It looked like the entrance to some kind of fortress, inside which he could already see a huge, looming building. Guarding the gate was a single young man, though Fenrir couldn't see his features from this far.

He was sure his father had gone to that place, whatever it was. The guard at the gate worried him, though. Would he let a lone, innocent-looking puppy pass? Fenrir studied the gate and the wall, looking for a breach, but it was hopeless. The only way in was through the gate.

Well, he might as well give it a try. All he knew was that he couldn't just stand here all day. It was a waste of time, and he might end up losing his father's trail. Trying to look as harmless and adorable as possible, Fenrir sauntered over to the gate.

Now that he was close enough, he could see the young guard watching him with one narrowed, hawk-like eye from behind a thin curtain of dark hair – his other eye was completely obscured. The guard stood completely still, his arms folded, but Fenrir could tell he was alert and watching the wolf's every movement. Unnerved, Fenrir stopped before the man, sat down, and stared back at him with puppy eyes. This was his trump card. _No one_ resisted his puppy eyes.

The guard hesitated for a moment, but held his ground. Determined not to get discouraged, Fenrir wagged his tail and rolled on the ground playfully. The stupid guard looked more perplexed than anything, but still didn't budge from his position. Fenrir inconspicuously glanced at the gate, wondering if he should try biting the guard's leg and make a run for it through the gate's bars.

Before he could put his plan into action, both he and the guard were distracted by the arrival of a chariot – a chariot that was drawn by a pair of cats, at that. Having quickly jumped out of the way to avoid being run over, Fenrir stared, flabbergasted. The rider was a _very _pretty blonde woman – she was almost as pretty as his mother. Next to her were two restless puppy wolves.

"Heimdall!" exclaimed the woman as she brought the chariot to an abrupt halt in front of the gate.

"Hey, Freyja," said the guard – Heimdall? – in a monotone.

"I need to see Lord Odin! Come on, let me enter, quickly!"

"What's the hurry?" Heimdall asked, although he sounded very uninterested in the answer.

"I just can't wait to get rid of these beasts!" The woman, Freyja, managed to look pretty even when she was snarling angrily and sneering. "This is the last time I agree to take care of them! All they do is eat, make a mess out of my hall, and harass my poor cats!"

"I did tell him it was a bad idea to leave them with you, but he wouldn't listen to me," muttered Heimdall as he began to open the gate. A little more loudly, he said, "It was all _Loki's_ idea, mind you. No surprise there."

Fenrir jerked his head up, surprised by the sudden mention of his father's name.

The same name also had an interesting effect on Freyja. Her anger dissipated and she looked flustered and, oddly enough, flattered. A smile of satisfaction slowly broke across her face.

"Was it?" she asked, her tone hopeful and coy, sounding very much like Hel when she was praised. "Well, then... That must mean Loki thinks of me as a very reliable, trustworthy person, right? Of course it does! Why else would he have recommended me to Lord Odin?" She was visibly preening now. Fenrir was just thankful she didn't start giggling. "Oh, Loki..." she sighed dreamily.

Heimdall, on the other hand, was looking very aggravated and a little flustered, as if Freyja's reaction were just the opposite of what he had been expecting. He opened his mouth to say something, then snapped it shut and gritted his teeth. He seemed to be just barely refraining from saying something very unkind.

By now the gate was already half-open, and since both the guard and Freyja were distracted, Fenrir took this opportunity to make a dash past them and towards the open gate. Unfortunately, this less than subtle move startled Freyja's cats, which cried out, hissed, and began to chase him. They were so quick and abrupt that Freyja nearly fell off the chariot, and then was almost hit in the head by the gate when the cats rushed through the relatively small opening, seeming to forget that there was a whole chariot behind them. Freyja screamed shrilly and did her best to try and regain control of the cats, while at the same trying to keep the two puppy wolves next to her from jumping or falling off as well.

For his part, Fenrir kept running as fast as his small legs would allow, barely paying attention to his surroundings. He was vaguely aware that there were people around and they were probably staring at the spectacular scene Freyja and the animals were making, but Fenrir focused on losing the cats and finding a hideout.

"Hey, Freyjaaaa!" someone shouted. Next thing Fenrir knew, there was a grinning man riding a boar which was running full speed in their direction. It was so fast that Fenrir didn't even try changing his course so they wouldn't crash and barely had time to duck, bracing himself. At the last minute, however, the boar leapt into the air, harmlessly flying right over Fenrir. "Long time no seee—ee—eeek! No! Stop! Watch out!"

"Get out of the way, Bro—" Freyja's scream was cut off by a painful-sounding thud.

Fenrir risked a glance back and saw that the boar had flown right into the woman, dragging her off the chariot. She hung on for dear life until the boar gingerly touched the ground again.

"Freyja, my dear sister, are you all right?" shouted the man on the boar frantically.

"That's _it_!" yelled Freyja, struggling to her feet. "STOP!" she howled, her shrill voice reverberating powerfully all around. Bystanders froze, the cats ceased their pursuing and meekly looked back at their master, and even Fenrir slowed down almost to a halt. Then, shaking himself, he hurried to a corner nearby and kept himself well out of sight, ignoring his ringing ears.

Only two beings were unfazed, and those were the two puppy wolves that had been in the chariot with Freyja. Now that it had stopped and Freyja was no longer there to keep them in their place, they happily got off the chariot and started running around.

While Freyja scolded the man with the boar for always showing up at the most inconvenient times and getting in the way and the man tried to appease her, Fenrir walked off in the opposite direction, brooding. What a mess! If it had been any other time, this might have been an entertaining episode, but Fenrir had more important things to think about at the moment. This place, which seemed to be some sort of town, was larger than he had imagined, and he could no longer smell his father's scent at all. It would take him ages to find his father!

He had been wandering for a few minutes when that same man's happy-go-lucky voice was heard again. "Whoa, there, boy! Where do you think you're going?" Two gloved hands held the little wolf and gently picked him up. Fenrir struggled and growled at the man. What was up with this guy, anyway?

Unperturbed by Fenrir's reaction, the man ran back to where the chariot had been left. Freyja, looking a little harried and dishevelled (though still pretty), was also holding a puppy wolf and putting it back on the chariot, her cats subdued.

"I found him, Freyja!" shouted the man.

"Oh, good," the woman sighed. "Lord Odin would kill me if I lost his wolves. Put him here, on the right." She got back on the chariot, sat between Fenrir and the other wolf, and took the reins in her hands. "All right, I'm ready now. And don't you dare follow me, Brother!" she hissed at the man.

"Well, if you promise to come and pay me a visit later..."

Without giving her brother a reply, Freyja set off.

Fenrir was restless. He should be looking for his father, not being caught in a case of mistaken identity. This was such a waste of time... He tried to get off the chariot, but Freyja held him in place, so used to the motion that she didn't even glance at him. The other puppy also tried to escape, to no avail.

Fenrir soon realised where he was being taken. It was the monumental building he had seen even from outside the gate. The building looked like a castle and also had a huge gate, which was much bigger than a house. It looked very impressive and intimidating.

Now, Fenrir might not be as smart as his father, but he wasn't stupid. _Everyone_ in all the nine worlds knew about this palace, and there was no doubt that this was it.

Valhalla.

The home of Odin, the Allfather, the king of the gods.

Dread filled Fenrir's being as realisation dawned on him. He was being taken to Odin's hall. Would he meet the Allfather? What would happen to him if and when Odin realised that Fenrir wasn't one of his pet wolves? Would he be mad? Would he want to take care of him? Would he let him go in peace? Should Fenrir risk speaking, or should he keep quiet like his father had ordered?

While he dithered, they went through the gates, which opened like magic when the chariot approached, and they slowly made their way to what seemed to be a courtyard. It was deserted, save for a few birds, but Fenrir could hear movement from behind a wooden door nearby. He looked at it, noticing it was opened a crack.

Freyja stopped the chariot right there and got off. "Geri, Freki, come with me," she said, although she didn't look back to make sure they would obey. The other wolf followed her, but Fenrir sat rooted to the spot. He couldn't get in there! He had to find a way out of this place quickly.

He couldn't stay here, either, though. If Freyja noticed he wasn't following her, she might come back for him. He needed to hide.

He looked around and his gaze fell on the wooden door again. Quickly but cautiously, he ran to it and peeked inside. It was some sort of stable, and there was only one horse to be seen, wandering around freely. Figuring the horse couldn't possibly do any harm, Fenrir crept into the stable, keeping close to the darker corners. He made no noise at all, but didn't have time to dive for cover before the horse turned around and spotted him.

"Hello there!" it said, with a youthful, male voice. Fenrir froze, his eyes widening. A talking horse? That couldn't be an ordinary horse! Oh, he was in trouble...

The horse approached slowly, watching the apprehensive wolf curiously. Now that they were closer, Fenrir could see he had not four legs, as any normal horse was supposed to, but _eight _legs. Eight!

"I don't think we've met," the horse remarked. "Are you new here?"

"Er... Yeah," said Fenrir without thinking. He was still staring at the horse's extra legs in wonder.

"Oh, so you can speak!" said the horse, sounding pleasantly surprised. "That's great! I was getting so tired of having one-sided conversations with the other wolves!"

"Ah... Er..." Fenrir tilted his head, eyeing the horse appraisingly.

Seeming glad that Fenrir hadn't bolted out of the stable despite his obvious nervousness, the horse stepped closer. "My name is Sleipnir. What's yours?"

Fenrir hesitated, then mentally shrugged. The horse seemed friendly enough, at least. What was the harm in telling him his name?

"Fenrir."

"Hello, Fenrir! Nice to meet you. So, what brings you here to the stable? Did you get lost?"

"Yes, I did," answered Fenrir truthfully. "I was brought here by accident. You see, I was looking for my father, but I lost him."

"Oh, that's too bad," said Sleipnir sympathetically. "Does your father live around here?"

"Here in Asgard, yeah."

"Maybe I can help you! I know almost everyone who lives in Asgard."

"Really?" asked Fenrir, his curiosity piqued. "How can you? No offence, but I wouldn't think you'd get to know many people when you live in a stable."

Sleipnir laughed good-naturedly. "Actually, I spend most of my time outside. You could say today is my day off. And I get around a lot, so I know almost everyone both by name and appearance."

"Hmm, right," mused Fenrir, narrowing his eyes.

"Even if I don't know your father, I can still help you look for him. You can count on me!" Sleipnir lowered his head in order to take a closer look at Fenrir. "So, what's your father's name?"

Fenrir hesitated again. Should he tell the truth? His father had refused to let the god Thor know that they were related... Then again, what difference would it make to a horse, even a talking one? Besides, Fenrir felt he could trust him, somehow.

"Loki," he answered at length.

"Huh! What a coincidence! My mother is called Loki, too!"

"Really?" Fenrir blinked and frowned. "How come she has a male name?"

"I dunno. I figured it was one of those names that can be given to girls as well as boys. Or maybe it's your father who has a female name?"

"No, no, I'm pretty sure that's a male name."

"Oh, well. I do know of more than one Loki. What does your father look like?"

Fenrir described his father's appearance in detail, noting how Sleipnir's eyes widened a fraction more every couple of seconds.

"That's funny!" said the horse brightly. "From what you say, your father looks just like my mother!"

"Except my father is a man," Fenrir pointed out, feeling peeved. He was beginning to think that this horse was either not very bright or pulling his leg.

"Mother is a shape-shifter," said Sleipnir, pride colouring his voice. "She can take the shape of any creature she wishes and choose to be female or male. At least, that's what she once told me."

"But my father never – er..." Fenrir trailed off when a recently told story came to his mind. "Actually, my father has the same ability. Just yesterday he was telling me about the time when he turned into a mare in order to distract a – er – to distract... Oh, crap." Fenrir sank to the ground, mortified.

"What?" came Sleipnir's concerned voice. "What is it?"

"Sleipnir, do you know your father's name?"

"Why, yes, of course. It's Svadilfari. Why do you ask?"

"Oh. Nothing." Fenrir pulled himself together and frowned sternly at the horse, who just looked puzzled.

His father had told him and his siblings that he had taken his true form before the stallion Svadilfari could catch him up. Surely Sleipnir was mistaken! He must have been a lost, orphaned baby whom his father had found and taken in, and Sleipnir had instinctively begun to think of him as his mother. Yes, that made a lot more sense than his father literally being an eight-legged horse's mother.

Besides, how could his father even have had a baby? Even if he could take the shape of a female, it was just an illusion, so he was still really male, right? And only females could have babies, right? He remembered his mother once mentioned something like that...

How _did _one have babies, anyway?

"Hey, you all right?" Sleipnir's voice broke into his thoughts.

"Er, yeah, yeah. I was just thinking..." mumbled Fenrir.

"Look, why don't you go and see for yourself if Mother isn't the person you're looking for? I'll show you where she lives."

"You can show me? But how do we get out of here?"

"Through the back door, of course!"

"... There is a back door in Valhalla?"

oOo

"There. That's Mother's hall."

"That? You must be kidding me!"

Fenrir gaped in disbelief at the building that was his father's hall, according to Sleipnir. It was very big and beautiful – not as much as Valhalla, of course, but it was the second best hall he had seen in Asgard so far. The oddest thing, however, was that it was a very bright, sickeningly cheery place, in a sort of feminine way, so completely different from his own home and his father's disposition that Fenrir just couldn't believe it was his hall.

"This can't be it," said Fenrir, sniffing the air. "I can't smell him!"

"Well, Mother's rarely home. She travels a lot, and when she's around, she usually hangs out at Thor's hall, or with Master Odin in Valhalla," explained Sleipnir. "Well, you can wait here for her to come back. I'd love to stay and keep you company, but I'm not supposed to leave Valhalla without Master Odin's permission, so I should go back before anyone notices I'm gone. But if Mother's not the Loki you're looking for, you know where to find me. I'll do my best to help you!"

"Thanks," said Fenrir grudgingly. Before he could say anything else, an excited voice was heard and Fenrir found himself being picked up yet again. He looked up at the bright face of a blonde woman, who was grinning and cooing at him. She wasn't as pretty as Freyja, but she looked a lot nicer. Somehow, she reminded him of his own mother.

"Aww, aren't you the cutest thing ever!" she was saying, tickling his belly. Fenrir squirmed. "Are you lost, little puppy? You look so tired and hungry! Aww, poor thing! Come, I'll give you something to eat."

Fenrir immediately stopped struggling to escape the woman's embrace at that last sentence, his mouth already beginning to water. He _was_ very hungry.

"Why, hello, Sleipnir!" the woman greeted the horse and petted his mane and muzzle affectionately. Sleipnir made a pleased sound and nuzzled her hand in return, but didn't speak a word. After a while, Sleipnir stepped back and hurried away. The nice woman waved and bade him goodbye before returning her attention to the wolf in her arms. "Let's get you inside, little one."

oOo

Night was slowly falling, as the sun finally decided to move out of its comfortable spot in the sky, when Loki and Thor were practically thrown out by Thor's wife, Sif, under accusations of being lazy leeches who only ate her food and never did anything to help – Loki assumed she was mostly referring only to Thor, of course. The poor woman must have been so stressed out from taking care of her newborn children that she couldn't really be blamed for losing her temper and throwing such outrageous accusations at her respectable guests.

Since that happened before Sif was done making dinner, they were both quite hungry, so they headed to Loki's hall. His wife's culinary skills might not be as good as Sif's, but she was always glad to make them dinner. That was one thing Loki liked about her; she was such a dedicated wife. She had never, ever demanded that he help her take care of the children, either, for which Loki was tremendously grateful. He pitied Thor, he really did.

"Sigyn!" he called out when he entered his hall, Thor trailing after him eagerly. "I'm home! Is dinner ready yet?"

"It isn't, sorry!" she shouted from the kitchen. She didn't sound very sorry, Loki thought. "I got a little distracted by the new arrival!"

"What new arrival?"

"This cute baby!"

"What?!" Loki nearly had a heart attack. Were they going to have yet another child? He began to back away and reach out for the door, but the sound of barking made him freeze. The next minute, Sigyn came out from the kitchen, grinning ear to ear, to greet him and Thor, a small, black creature in tow. Loki almost died on the spot when he recognised it.

"Hey, isn't that the puppy wolf you found today in Jotunheim?" asked Thor in astonishment. "It is, isn't it? It is, I can tell! What's it doing here?"

"Err, it must have followed me home," said Loki.

"Is that so, Loki?" Sigyn asked in wonder. She picked the puppy up and giggled, her eyes twinkling. "Aww, he must think you're his mummy! To think he came all the way here from Jotunheim! What a brave little puppy you are!" she cooed. For some reason, Fenrir looked like he had just swallowed something very bitter.

Loki just covered his face helplessly.

"He's so cute, isn't he?" Sigyn went on. "Can we keep him, Loki?"

"No, absolutely not!" he snapped. His vehemence surprised both Sigyn and Thor. More softly, he added, "I mean, his place is in Jotunheim, with his family. He should be with his mother."

"But, Loki, what if his mother is dead? Maybe that's why he's come after you! He has no one else in the world!"

"Somehow, I doubt that," he said dryly, giving Fenrir a meaningful look until the wolf averted his gaze in shame.

"But you can't know for sure," his wife argued. "Please, can't we keep him? It'd make me and the children so happy!"

For a moment, Loki wasn't even sure what children she was referring to. Then, he remembered. Vali and Nari, his and Sigyn's children. Right. It probably said something about his parenting skills that he hadn't even made the connection right away.

"All right," he sighed, defeated. "He can stay."

"Ooh, Loki, thank you so much!"

"Yes, yes, you're welcome. Can we have dinner now?" he asked sullenly. Sigyn smiled and said she would start preparing it right away. Unfortunately, she took Fenrir with her, preventing Loki from snatching him for a chat.

oOo

Throughout dinner, Loki was the only one whose attention was not on Fenrir. Even Thor, who barely paused to take a breath between each bite, would glance at the puppy and make muffled remarks about how it would definitely become a sturdy, mighty wolf when it grew up. Considering Fenrir's giant lineage, Thor was probably a lot closer to the truth than he might think. As for Loki's wife and children, most of their food went to Fenrir and they laughed and cooed at any little thing he did. There was also talk about giving him a name, and many ridiculous suggestions were given. It was all getting a little annoying, actually. Loki did his best to block out their voices and focused on his reading.

"Loki, you shouldn't read while you're eating," Sigyn admonished him, but he ignored her completely. Eventually, she began to ignore him as well, which irritated him above anything. Sigyn had never completely ignored him before!

When dinner was thankfully over and Thor left, Loki was finally able to inconspicuously take Fenrir aside for a private talk.

"What in the nine worlds are you doing here?" he hissed at the wolf. "Didn't I tell you not to come to Asgard?"

"I'm sorry, Daddy," Fenrir whimpered pitifully. "I just wanted to be with you and make sure you were okay."

Loki sighed and shifted uncomfortably. "I understand, Fenrir, and I appreciate the sentiment, but you shouldn't have come. I did promise you I'd go back, didn't I? Did you think I was lying?"

"No, Daddy! I believe you! Really, I do! But I was worried about you."

"Why worry about me? I'm in no danger. It's yourself you should be worried about. This place is just too dangerous for you."

"Why? I don't think it's dangerous. I've been here for hours, and nothing's happened to me," said Fenrir truthfully. There was the mishap with Freyja's high-strung cats, but he believed that had been more a misunderstanding than actual danger.

"You're going back first thing in the morning tomorrow," said Loki firmly. His son looked forlorn, but dared not protest.

"Can I sleep with you, Daddy?" he asked plaintively. Loki tried to avoid the puppy eyes, but it was hopeless; he gave in. Looking a little more cheerful, Fenrir stared at him in a curious manner.

"What is it?" Loki prompted.

"Daddy, have you ever been a mummy?"

"Of course I've had a mothe—Wait, what?" Loki did a double-take, thinking he must heave misheard the question once it finally registered.

"I meant, are you a mother as well as a father? I met a horse called Sleipnir and he told me you were his mother. I thought he must be mad, until I remembered the story you told us last night. He even said his father's name was Svadilfari. That's the name of that stallion that was chasing you, isn't it?"

Fighting the impulse to crawl under a rock and die, Loki abruptly picked his son up. "That's it! I'm taking you back to Jotunheim right now!"

"But, Daddyyyy!" Fenrir whined.

"Shhh! Someone will hear you!"

"Father?" said a third, boyish voice. Loki stopped and turned to look at one of his and Sigyn's children, who was standing at the doorway.

"Oh, hi, er... Vali," said Loki.

"I'm Nari."

"Right. Er, I knew that. I was just teasing you. Can you move aside, now? You're blocking the doorway."

"Where are you going, Father?" Nari asked innocently.

"I'm going to take him out for a walk," said Loki, indicating Fenrir.

"In the middle of the night?"

"Wolves are nocturnal, aren't they? So it'd make more sense to take him for a walk at night."

"I understand, Father," said Nari, stepping out of Loki's way. "Can I come, too?"

"No, you go to bed. _You're_ not a wolf, so there's no excuse for you to stay up till late. Tell your mother I'll be back soon." Without waiting for a reply, Loki hurried out of the hall. Really, these children would be the death of him someday...

"Daddy, you never answered my question," said Fenrir. "Is it even possible for you to be a mummy? I was wondering, what do you have to do to have a baby? Where _does_ it come from, Daddy?"

"Why don't you ask your mother, Fenrir?" muttered Loki, picking up his pace.

"I did, and she didn't give me an answer. She got kind of nervous, come to think of it. So?"

"So what?"

"Where do babies come from, Daddy?"

At a loss, Loki said the first thing that came to his mind, hoping it would put an end to this abominable subject. "Magic," he said lamely.

"Aaah!" was the satisfying reaction. A pause, then, "So, is it true that you're Sleipnir's mother?"

"Do be quiet, Fenrir."

Luckily for Loki, they were nearing the gate where Heimdall still stood guard. Loki gave him a mildly annoyed look. Great, if he saw the both of them together and sneaking out of Asgard in the middle of the night, he'd get suspicious – he might even tell Odin about it. How inconvenient! Why couldn't Heimdall get a life and do something other than stand there day and night on end?

"Now listen to me, Fenrir," Loki whispered as he put his son down. "While I distract Heimdall, you go through the gate bars without being seen, understood? Then you go back home as quickly as possible. And be careful!"

"Yes, Daddy," Fenrir whispered back, subdued. "You promise you'll come to visit us soon, won't you?"

"Yes, yes, as soon as I can. I'll see what I can do. Now get ready." Straightening up and approaching the gate, Loki called out, "Hey, Heimdall! You're still there? Don't you ever get tired of playing our gatekeeper? Don't you need to sleep?"

The guard remained silent and motionless as ever.

"You _are_ sleeping now, aren't you? I don't know why you even bother, then; if you're going to be such a lousy gatekeeper, you might as well quit and go home. I bet even Freyr or Thor could do a better job." Loki was satisfied to see Heimdall tense himself, his gloved hands tightening around his arms like a hawk's claws. "You know, what you really need is a hobby – or to get laid. When was the last time you had some fun? Do you even know the meaning of that word? Honestly, you are such a—"

"_Shut – up_!" Heimdall finally snapped and whipped around, grabbing the bars tightly. "Have _you_ nothing better to do than stand there goading me? It's bad enough I have to see your face on a regular basis and open this gate for you, now I have to put up with your taunts as well?"

"What?" said Loki innocently. "I was just trying to make you realise what a loser you are." Even as Loki spoke, he was already backing away while a fuming Heimdall opened the gate and began advancing with murder in his eye.

"I'm going to kill you, Loki," whispered the gatekeeper poisonously. Loki smiled and held up his hands, still stepping back.

"Easy, easy, now, Heimdall! Remember, Odin won't be pleased if you try to kill his blood brother..."

Unnoticed by Heimdall, Fenrir simply walked through the open gate.

oOo

Back in Ironwood, the giantess Angrboda was getting more and more worried about her children. Night had already fallen, it was getting late, and none of them had returned yet. She tried to calm down by reminding herself that as long as Loki was with them, they would be safe. She trusted him. She knew he would never allow his children to be harmed in any way.

They had probably lost track of time because they were enjoying themselves so much. The children must have wanted to make up for the time of his absence. They had missed him so much, after all. Hopefully, this lateness meant that Loki had got over his misgivings and begun to warm to them. They all really were in dire need of some father-children bonding.

Nevertheless, she wished and hoped they would come home soon.


	3. A Family in the Dark

**Author's note**: Thank you for the reviews! They are much appreciated!

No Loki in this chapter...

* * *

– **CHAPTER 3 –**

_**A Family in the Dark**_

After Fenrir left to Asgard, Hel didn't go straight home, but continued to wander around in Ironwood. She wasn't afraid of being alone in this wood during the day, when it was practically deserted. Humming under her breath, she went on picking berries and mushrooms when she found any. Sometimes, she would pass a remark out loud about something trivial such as the colour of the mushrooms or the nice weather, as though her father were there to listen. Pretending he was still with her was less painful than accepting he wasn't.

She became so distracted that she didn't even notice it had started to get dark.

"Oh, look, I found a lot more here!" she said, kneeling down to pick yet more berries. "They look good, don't you think?"

She jumped in alarm at the sound of rustling leaves in a bush nearby. However, when she caught sight of a familiar green snake, she relaxed and smiled.

"Jormungand! I thought you'd gone home."

"Who were you talking to, Sister?" he asked her warily. Hel blushed.

"To myself. I was just thinking aloud," she mumbled.

"I see..." Her brother's voice was so dispirited that she paused to study him, noting how he kept his head on the ground as if he were sleeping, his eyes dull with misery.

"Oh, Little Brother, are you still upset about what Fenrir said? Don't listen to him; he's stupid," she told him, with a smile. "Tell you what, when he comes back, Mother and I will make him apologise to you!"

"Thank you for trying to make me feel better, Sister, but he shouldn't have to apologise when he only spoke the truth."

"But what he said isn't true!" She reached out to comfort him, but he squirmed under her touch and drew back as subtly as possible, even though she had been careful to use her right, healthy hand. Ever since their father's last visit a few years ago, Jormungand seemed to dislike being touched. Only their mother could still touch him with minimal fuss. No one was sure why.

"No, he's right, I am—" He broke off and quickly raised his head, suddenly tense, his tongue flickering quickly. "Hel," he whispered, "don't panic, but..."

"What is it?" she asked, panicking.

"We are completely surrounded by wolves."

"What?" she burst out unthinkingly, then covered her mouth and jumped to her feet, looking around in horror.

True to her brother's words, at least a dozen growling wolves emerged from the bushes and shadows, glowing eyes watching her menacingly. In her fright, Hel's legs gave out and she fell over, whimpering. A cruel laugh was heard and some of the wolves stepped aside for a very tall, burly woman who seemed to have materialised out of nowhere. She came to stand before Hel and examined her with cold, dark eyes, a smirk on her lips.

"Well, she's a little small and half bad, but she'll do. We can just cut off the bad parts. Hmm, better not to kill her now, or else the good parts might rot faster. Leave her to me, boys!" she shouted the last sentence and drew an empty sack from the front of her dress. "Oh, if only all hunting nights could be this quick and easy..." she said under her breath, still smirking, and advanced.

"Don't you dare touch her!" said a hissing voice. Jormungand slithered forth and coiled up between his sister and the dark woman, his head raised defiantly. "Back off! Leave her alone!"

He continued to hiss and bare his fangs threateningly, but the dark woman was utterly unimpressed by the rather small snake. She raised her hand to grab a low, thin branch above her and broke it off. Then, holding it by one end, she easily scooped Jormungand up with the other end and threw him into the sack.

"Tell the boys back home we're going to have snake for dessert," she said and proceeded to grab a protesting Hel and put her into the sack as well.

More or less upside down, Hel felt quite disoriented and struggled to regain her bearings. She could feel Jormungand's cold scales against her arms, neck, and forehead, and heard pained hisses every time she pressed against them in her struggle. Eventually, she managed to get as comfortable as one could get when one was stuffed in a dark, small sack with a snake, feeling it swing back and forth as they were carried away by the giantess.

"Jormungand, I'm scared!" she whispered, sniffling.

"Don't be, Sister. We will find a way to escape," he assured her, his voice slightly muffled.

"We shouldn't have stayed out in the wood after dark," she sobbed. "I should've gone home, like Mother always tells me to."

"It will be all right, Sister Hel," said her brother optimistically. "Just try to think what Father would do if he were in our situation. Remember his stories, all the times he has been in trouble? Father never gave up! He never would! He would keep his wits about him and come up with a clever plan to escape. We must follow his example, Sister! We must prove to him we can be as clever as he is."

"But we can't really, can we? Nobody can ever be as clever as Father." She sniffed and tried to pull herself together. "But you're right, we can't just give up! What would father think of us?"

oOo

Angrboda was panicking.

She had tried not to. She had constantly told herself that Loki would protect their children. When that hadn't been quite enough to soothe her nerves, she had begun to eat. Eating always calmed her down. However, even after she had eaten almost all the food in the kitchen, she was still anxious.

What was taking them so long? They had all woken up so early, they should be exhausted by now. Besides, they hadn't eaten anything since this morning, so they should be very hungry, as well. Why, then, hadn't they come home for dinner?

Something must have gone terribly wrong, she figured. Maybe the children had got lost from Loki. Maybe they had all been ambushed by other giants. Maybe the other gods had finally found out about the existence of her children and had come to get them!

Whatever the problem was, she wasn't helping anyone by just staying home and wondering about it. She had to do something. Determined, Angrboda began to get ready to leave. She would search for them, and she _would_ find them, even if she had to look all night, even if she had to go for days without any food, even if she had to go to Asgard and face all the gods at once!

She was just grabbing her cloak when she heard barking. Startled, she opened the front door and looked down to see her oldest son, looking exhausted by otherwise fine. He wagged his tail and greeted her happily.

"Oh, Fenrir!" she exclaimed, her voice cracking, as she knelt down to hold her son. "I was so worried about you!"

"I'm sorry I worried you, Mummy!" he said, a little sheepishly. "I just wanted to go after Daddy."

"I know, I understand," she said, petting him reassuringly. "I'm just glad you're here now, safe and sound. But... where's your father and your brother and sister?"

"Huh?" Fenrir have her an astonished look. "What do you mean? Didn't Hel and Jormungand come home earlier today?"

Angrboda's heart skipped a beat. "No, they never came back. Should they have? I thought you were all together with your father."

Fenrir gave her a pitiful look. "No, me and Daddy met the god Thor while we were hunting and they left to Asgard. I..." He hesitated, looking a little ashamed. "I went after him. Hel and Jormungand didn't, though."

There were so many things wrong in Fenrir's explanation that Angrboda was momentarily at a loss and couldn't even decide what to worry about first. Loki had left their children in the wood and gone back to Asgard with Thor? And Fenrir had _followed_ them?

However, she soon focused on her first priority, which was the safety of her children. Ironwood was a relatively peaceful place during the day, but it became very dangerous at night, when the many wolf clans that dwelt in it went out to hunt. Her two youngest children were easy game even to a small pack. For all she knew, they could already be dead!

"Fenrir, I know you must be tired," she said, her voice full of determination even as it trembled in fear for her children's lives, "but you've got to help me find your brother and sister!"

oOo

Even after the two captured children had been released from the sack, Hel continued to hold her brother close to her, taking comfort from his familiar presence. Finding herself completely surrounded by dozens of famished wolves and looming giantesses, it was all she could do to keep up her brave façade and not break down in blind terror.

For his part, Jormungand was doing a much better job at looking collected and unafraid, although Hel could feel him tense whenever a wolf stepped too close or when one of the giantesses stared at them for too long.

So far, neither he nor Hel had come up with a plan to escape yet. They were being kept in the kitchen, or at least what passed for a kitchen in a cave. The place was quite dirty and the stench of carrion fouled the air, strong enough to make even Hel gag at first. A few giantesses were working at different spots, cutting meat or preparing a stew. The giantess who had captured them was also there, sharpening a huge knife. None of them had bothered to trap or bind the two children in any way, or even to keep a close eye on them – some wolves had positioned themselves around them and at the exit and were watching their every movement.

"Excuse me," Jormungand spoke up, startling the jittery Hel. The giantess who was closest to them, the one who had caught them, turned to give him a sharp look. "You seem to be the leader of this clan. May I ask what your name is, madam?" asked the serpent, coolly polite.

The giantess narrowed her eyes, but a small smirk was pulling at the corner of her lips. "Yes, I am the leader of the clan," she said proudly. "I am Herkja, daughter of Skalli."

"I see," hissed Jormungand, with a reverent nod. He slid off his sister and approached the giantess as much as the watch wolves would allow him. "I have heard much about Lady Herkja's clan," he said. "You are one of the greatest and most ancient clans in Jotunheim, I was told."

"That's right," said Herkja. "But flattery will get you nowhere, so you might as well shut up now."

"Oh, I wasn't trying to flatter you, madam."

"'Just saying the truth,' is what you're going to say?"

"You mistake me," said Jormungand, ignoring the giantess' sarcasm. "You see, I'm afraid there's been a misunderstanding, and I was hoping we could sort it out."

Herkja went on sharpening her knife, seeming to have lost all interest in the snake.

"You see," Jormungand pressed on, "we are the children of the giantess and witch Angrboda, whose ancestors belonged to this very clan."

"Angrboda! Hah!" Herkja paused in her work and turned to look at Jormungand, then at Hel. She snorted. "Yes, I know of Angrboda and her distant relation to my clan. But what you say is ridiculous! You can't possibly be her children!"

Even Hel was so offended by the suggestion that she momentarily forgot her fear and glared openly at Herkja.

"But we are!" she protested. "Why is that so hard to believe?"

"Why?" Herkja laughed. "You're not wolves! And everyone knows that we the troll-women can only have wolves for children – or other giantesses."

"I am a giantess!" said Hel, picking herself up.

"A deformed giantess," scoffed Herkja. Hel flushed and sputtered.

"She's not deformed; she's cursed," said Jormungand, a hint of reproach in his voice.

"Even worse, then. What about you? No one in our clan, not even of distant relation, could have ever conceived a snake. Unless your father is a snake? Or are you under a curse, too?"

"Neither," he answered, struggling to keep his tone polite. "To be honest, we don't know why we were born like this. My father thinks it may be because he's a shape-shifter."

"Even if Angrboda could have a snake and a deformed giantess for children," said the giantess, giving them a particularly malicious look, "they wouldn't have lived this long. Any sensible woman from our clan would have killed such aberrations the moment they were born."

Hel gasped, feeling her eyes sting. "Th-that's not true! Mother would never do something so cruel! And we are _not_ aberrations!"

Jormungand was silent, subdued. Hel glared at him. Why wasn't he supporting her and defending their mother?

The fighting spirit might have left Jormungand, but, apparently, it had just descended on Hel, who stood up to her full height, unimpressive as it might me, and glared at Herkja.

"Just you wait!" she shouted, pointing at the giantess. "Just you wait till Mother finds out we are here! And Brother Fenrir! And when I tell Father that you kidnapped us and wanted to feed us to your wolves, there won't be even a single cub left when he's done with you!"

Herkja was chuckling softly, unable to feel threatened by a scared, desperate little girl. "Oh, sweet child, I really don't see why they'd even bother." She stood straight up and turned to fully face Hel, sharp knife in hand. "Hold still, now, would you? I have to cut your rotting parts off. Boys," she addressed the wolves, "you may kill the snake now."

Hel's shrill scream was followed by a rumble and the screams of the giants when a blinding red light took over the chamber.

oOo

After Fenrir and his mother went out to look for Hel and Jormungand, he led her to the place where he and his siblings had talked before parting ways. Fenrir quickly caught Hel's scent, which was unmistakable and much stronger than Jormungand's, and spent the next couple of hours or so following it. He grew very impatient and frustrated when the trail made them go around in needless, purposeless circles. Apparently, Hel had been wandering without paying much attention to where she had been going. Now this resulted in quite a waste of precious time for Fenrir and Angrboda.

Eventually, however, the trail ended next to a bush of berries, where he also caught Jormungand's scent. So, it seemed the two of them had met again in the end. Fenrir proceeded to sniff the ground around the bush, his expression becoming grimmer and grimmer. Angrboda stood out of his way, watching him anxiously.

"Their trails end here," he announced at length. "Weird. It's like they magically disappeared."

"Oh, no..." breathed Angrboda, looking around frantically, as if searching for a more optimistic explanation.

"It gets worse," added Fenrir, almost reluctant – he didn't want to make his mother even more worried, but neither could he bring himself to hide the truth from her.

"Worse?!"

"I can smell wolves all around. They formed a circle surrounding this spot," he explained, indicating the area next to the berry bush. "I can only guess that they were surrounding Hel and Jormungand." When Angrboda looked like she was about to faint, Fenrir quickly added, "I can't smell blood at all, though, so maybe they managed to escape?"

"But you said their trails ended here!" she wailed.

"Calm down, Mummy," he said soothingly. "Maybe they escaped with magic!"

"But they can't use magic, Fenrir," she said brokenly, wiping her eyes with the cuff of her sleeve. "None of you got any training yet."

"We just don't know how to use it, Mummy," Fenrir pointed out. "That doesn't mean we _can't_ use it."

"Well, if they did somehow use uncontrolled magic to get away, they could be anywhere by now! How in the nine worlds are we going to find them?" Her eyes bright, Angrboda reached into her bag and produced a chicken leg. After taking a few bites, she seemed to calm down somewhat.

Fenrir stared at her for a moment, deep in thought. Then, he brightened up. "Maybe the wolves who surrounded them could give us some kind of clue!"

"I don't know, Fenrir..." she murmured, nibbling at the chicken leg. "How do we even know they will help us? Maybe they don't have a clue, either. We'd only be wasting more time."

"Well, we've got to start somewhere!" said Fenrir, trying not to sound as impatient as he felt. "Since we have no idea where else to start, we might as well try and ask them first. Besides, there's still a chance they did catch Hel and Jormungand."

Angrboda sighed miserably. "You're right, of course. Very well, Fenrir. Can you follow their trail?"

"That shouldn't be a problem," he said, already back to sniffing the ground where the wolves' scent was stronger. He paused at one point, picking up a slightly different scent. He didn't recognise it, but he thought it was similar to his mother's scent, somehow. How intriguing. Maybe it was another giantess? He continued to follow the wolves' trail and was barely aware that he had broken into a run.

oOo

Curled up and covering her head as well as she could with her tiny hands, Hel opened one eye, then the other, and spied a rather large rock that had landed in front of her only a few feet away. She slowly straightened up and coughed as the dust settled. The other giantesses were in similar positions, having ducked or dived for cover under the large wooden table. There were more rocks and broken jars all around, as if the kitchen had been hit by a storm. One glance upwards told Hel that the rocks had fallen from the top of the cave. Jormungand and most of the wolves were nowhere to be seen.

Afraid that the entire cave might give in and fall on her head at any moment, or that the giantesses might recover quickly and return their attention to her, Hel was suddenly struck by the urge to get away as fast as possible and made a run for the door. She didn't wonder what exactly had happened in the kitchen or where her brother was. All rational thought had fled her mind and given way to blind terror. She ran and ran, passing dark chambers, puzzled giantesses and alarmed wolves, desperately looking for a way out. Herkja's voice, barking orders, echoed in the cave.

She did find the exit, eventually, more out of luck than anything, but it did her no good; there were dozens of wolves at the mouth of the cave, and they pounced on her as soon as she set foot outside. Fortunately, they didn't use their fangs, but only sought to immobilise her. Once one of them got a firm hold on her, pressing her against the ground, the others backed off, just as Herkja was coming out, knife in hand.

"Very good, boys," she told them, with a weary, but satisfied smirk. Barely able to squirm, Hel looked up at the giantess, whose form became blurry when tears sprang to the little girl's eyes. "I don't know what you did back there, but you won't be so lucky a second time. I won't let you surprise us again," snarled the woman.

"No! Let me go! Help!" Hel screamed and sobbed. "Help, Daddy!"

Herkja brought her huge, sword-like knife up, ready for the killing blow, then yelped and dropped it. The wolves, taken aback, perked up in alarm, while Hel struggled to turn her head and see what had stopped the giantess from attacking. Her little brother lay coiled at Herkja's left foot, honey-coloured poison dripping from his bared fangs. Hel's eyes widened at the sight. This was the first time she had seen Jormungand use his venom or look so threatening. She almost didn't recognise him.

Herkja limped a couple of steps away from the serpent and bent down to nurse her leg for a moment, her face tight with pain and anger. Meanwhile, Jormungand had already lost interest in her and was charging at the wolf that was holding Hel. However, Herkja was still very much aware and realised at once what he intended to do. With a low snarl, she grabbed her knife and crawled after him. The other wolves also began to close in on the snake.

"Jormungand, watch out!" shouted Hel breathlessly.

Fortunately, her brother heard her warning and reacted quickly, sliding out of the way just when Herkja brought the knife down, very nearly cutting his tail off. The giantess stood up and staggered, but didn't fall.

"Kill them!" she roared. "Kill them both! Now!"

The wolves, who had long positioned themselves to attack, charged immediately. The one holding Hel growled and opened his jaws wide. Just when he was about to sink his fangs into her neck, something seemed to have hit him on the side and knocked him off of Hel.

Dazed, Hel couldn't even move from her position at first. When she did look up, it was just in time to see a black little wolf bite one of the bigger wolves that had tried to attack Jormungand. Even though the puppy was so small and outnumbered, he continued to attack, bravely and fiercely, anyone who got too close.

"Brother Fenrir!" Hel gasped when she recognised the little wolf. She flinched when two wolves began to fight back and hurt her brother, although Fenrir, himself, didn't even seem to feel anything.

"That's enough," said a soft voice that somehow cut through all the mayhem. "Stop, all of you!"

Everyone halted and turned to look at the newcomer. Hel couldn't hold back a joyful smile when she saw it was her mother who had come to rescue them. The girl quickly glanced around, hoping her father had also come, but there was no sign of him.

"Please, we don't want trouble," said Angrboda, unusually sombre, but showing no sign of fear at all. "If it's food you want, I can give you as much as you wish. Just please let my children go."

Before anything else could be said, a young giantess came out of the cave with a lifeless wolf in her arms. She froze as she took in the scene before her and threw her leader a desperate look.

"Mistress! Hraudinir is dying! He's been bitten by a poisonous snake!"

"He's not the only one," hissed Herkja, giving Angrboda a sardonic look. Only now did Hel notice how pale she was, and that she sweating and panting. "As you can see, you are too late. Two lives will be lost before dawn, and no amount of food would ever compensate our clan for them!"

"No one has to die tonight," said Angrboda, unperturbed, drawing a small vial out of her bag. She held it out for everyone to see. "I happen to have the antidote that can save you and your wolf son. If you swear never to harm my children again, I will gladly give you this antidote."

"How do we know that antidote will actually work?" spat Herkja.

"I suppose you will have to trust me," said Angrboda, shrugging. "But you of all people should know that we never lie to our own, Herkja."

"'Our own?'" Herkja sneered. "Who do you think you are?"

"I realise it has been a while, but you should still be able to recognise me, Herkja. After all, if my ancestors hadn't left their original clan, _I_ would be in your place as the leader now."

"But if that's true, that could only mean you're..." Herkja hesitated, looking almost fearful.

"I'm Angrboda." She smiled. "A distant cousin of yours, you could say."

Herkja only stared at her, incredulous. She had become frightfully pale, though whether it was due to the poison or the shock, Hel couldn't tell. The wolves, for their part, looked curious, intrigued, and some of them were brave enough to approach Angrboda and began to sniff her. Angrboda smiled at them and knelt down to pet them as though they were her own children. They appeared to have recognised her and accept her as a giantess of their clan.

"It's true, then?" said Herkja feebly. "You really are Angrboda... and yet you had these... children?" She gestured at Hel and Jormungand, doing an impressive job at concealing her contempt.

Angrboda stood back up and nodded. "Yes, they are my dear children."

"But... I don't understand..."

"What is there to understand? They are my children and I love them more than my own life. Simple as that. I'm sure you feel the same way about your own children." Slowly, Angrboda walked over to Herkja, who had fallen to her knees, her body shaking. "Here, take this before it's too late," she said, offering the small vial.

With a trembling hand, Herkja took the vial. She stared at it, dazed and speechless. Angrboda went over to Jormungand and gently picked him up, letting him wind himself up her arm and around her neck. Then, she picked her daughter up, murmuring comforting words when Hel held her and sobbed happily. Before leaving, Angrboda looked back at Herkja.

"Farewell, Herkja. I hope you and your son get well soon," she said and turned her benevolent gaze on her oldest son. "Come on, Fenrir. Let's go home."

Fenrir promptly perked up and began to follow her. He paused for a moment and looked back at all the wolves, wagging his tail a little. "Hey, guys... No hard feelings, right?"

oOo

"I was so scared, Mummy!" cried Hel, pressing her face against her mother's shoulder.

"Shhh. It's all right, dear, you are safe now. Just promise you'll never stay out until dark again."

"I promise! I promise!"

"We are very sorry to have worried you, Mother," said Jormungand contritely.

"I'm just glad you are all safe and—"

"Mummy, Mummy!" interrupted Fenrir, hopping around Angrboda. "Did you see me fight against all those big wolves?"

"Yes, Fenrir, you were very brave and very strong." His mother smiled at him, her expression weary but proud.

"Yes, Brother, thank you for saving us!" said Hel, grinning at him over her mother's shoulder.

"I saved your life, too," muttered Jormungand, his voice so soft it was almost inaudible even to Hel and Angrboda, who were very close to him. "I also faced several wolves that were much bigger than me – and Lady Herkja, too."

"Aww, you were very brave, too, Little Brother," said Hel, petting him. He flinched and tried to hide under his mother's hair. "Thank you. I owe you – both of you."

"Oh, it was nothing," said Fenrir airily.

"You don't owe me, Sister," said Jormungand. "You saved my life when you made the cave collapse."

"I did?" questioned Hel, genuinely puzzled.

"What? You made the cave collapse, Hel?" asked their mother in astonishment, blinking. "How did you do that?"

"It was a burst of magic," answered Jormungand. "She was so scared that she lost control. It was very impressive. The giantesses and the wolves got scared and ran for cover, so we took the chance to escape."

"Wow!" exclaimed Fenrir. "See, Mummy? I told you we could use magic, even if we can't control it!"

Angrboda laughed, a little forcefully. "I'm just glad you didn't end up in Niflheim or some such thing... I'll have to start teaching you how to use magic very soon."

"Ooh, I can't wait!" said Fenrir, wagging his tail excitedly. "By the way, Mummy, how come you had the antidote for Jormungand's poison? Was it even the real thing?"

"Of course it was," said Angrboda seriously. "I'd never lie to them. We giantesses of Ironwood have a strong code of honour among ourselves, you know." Then, with a smile, she ran one finger over her youngest son's scales. "I always carry the antidote for Jormungand's venom, just in case you or Hel might ever need it. I know he would never deliberately hurt you, but accidents happen. One should always be prepared for the worst."

"That's very clever of you, Mummy!"

They were silent the rest of the way, content to just enjoy each other's company.

By the time they arrived home, they were all exhausted, both mentally and physically, but none of them felt sleepy. Angrboda announced she was staving and was going to make dinner with whatever food was still left in the house, while Fenrir told his siblings about his brief adventure in Asgard.

"You wouldn't believe how big Valhalla is!" he was saying when Angrboda returned from the kitchen. Instead of interrupting and announcing that dinner (or some semblance to it) was ready, she leant on the doorway inconspicuously and listened to her son's story. "It's - I think it's bigger than all of Ironwood!"

"Oooh!" "Wow!"

"Yeah! And before I knew it, that angry lady was taking me straight into Valhalla!"

His siblings gasped. Angrboda frowned. That couldn't be a good thing...

"Did you see him? Did you see Lord Odin?" asked Hel in a whisper. Fenrir fidgeted.

"Well... Yeah, he was – that is, I didn't – I couldn't really – I mean, sort of. Er." He shook himself. "But anyway, I met this strange creature in Valhalla! He looked like a horse, but he had eight legs! And he talked! He was pretty nice, though. He even helped me find Daddy. His name was Sleipnir." Fenrir leant forwards and lowered his voice almost to a whisper. "And here's something you won't believe; he said that his mother is called Loki. His _mother_."

Her children looked terribly confused, but Angrboda had to smile in amusement. She, of course, knew all about Sleipnir and his origins, although Loki always tried to avoid the subject and never got into much detail when he was persuaded to talk about it. Unfortunately, she had never had the chance to meet Sleipnir personally.

"And that's not all!" added Fenrir, still oblivious to his mother's presence. "He said his dad's name was Svadilfari! Do you remember who Svadilfari is?"

"Huh? Isn't that the stallion who Father had to distract by taking the form of a mare?" asked Jormungand.

"That's right!" said Fenrir, nodding vigorously. "Weird, isn't it? I mean, how can Daddy be the mum of an eight-legged horse? That makes no sense, right?"

"Well, he is a shape-shifter, so it's not so weird, really," said Hel. "He can be a woman if he wants."

Angrboda remained silent, but began to feel ill at ease. She did not like the direction this conversation was taking. She hoped they wouldn't start to ask her uncomfortable questions.

"He can change his appearance to _look _like a woman, but he can't _be_ a woman," said Fenrir. "We can't change what we are – not really."

"Maybe that's enough?" said Hel hesitantly. "Maybe just looking like a woman is enough to have a baby?"

"That doesn't change the disturbing fact that Daddy had a child with a stallion!"

"Maybe he couldn't help it! It must have been an accident!"

Fenrir fell silent, deep in thought. "Well... He did say that babies are born because of magic..."

"Aha! See? It was an accident with magic. Like a potion gone wrong."

Jormungand chose that moment to speak up. "I think Hel is right. Remember all the stories we have heard? This is actually very common," he said all-knowingly. "Here's what probably happened: Father and Svadilfari got hurt during the chase – they must have got some scratches in the woods – and some of their blood drops got mixed, and Sleipnir was created from that mix."

"That makes sense!" exclaimed Hel, looking admiringly at him. Even Fenrir couldn't find any fault in his brother's theory. "I think you're as clever as Father, Jormungand!" said their sister.

While the slightly embarrassed Jormungand stammered a modest reply, Angrboda was torn between amusement and dismay. The absurd things children could come up with when left to their own devices...

"Ew, I hope I don't have any children with that wolf I was fighting," muttered Fenrir, with a shudder.

"So, does that mean Sleipnir is our brother?" asked Hel.

"I don't know, but it'd be nice if he was," said Fenrir, smirking and glancing at his brother. "He'd be a better brother than Jormungand, at any rate."

Jormungand said nothing, only stared at him expressionlessly. It was impossible to tell if he had taken the remark to heart or brushed it off.

"So, what happened after you met Sleipnir?" said Hel. "Did you two find Father?"

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, he took me to Daddy's hall, but Daddy wasn't there. There was this strange woman, though, and two kids. The woman almost smothered me, but she also gave me food, so I forgave her. As for the two kids... I think they're Daddy's sons, too. They looked a lot like him, and they call him Father."

Despite Fenrir's nonchalant tone, Hel and Jormungand were taken aback and disturbed.

"I had no idea that he had so many children," whispered Jormungand forlornly. "I thought it was just us..."

"Surely not," said Fenrir, unperturbed. "Daddy is very popular and powerful, and he lives close to other powerful people. With all that magic in one place, accidents are bound to happen. I'm surprised he doesn't have a lot more children. But you don't have to worry," he added, smugly. "Daddy doesn't care about his accidental children. He couldn't even remember the name of one of them, and he totally ignored them when they were in the same room."

"If he doesn't care about them, why does he live with them and not with us?" asked Hel resentfully.

"Well, I—" Fenrir was at a loss. "I don't know. But I'm sure he has a good reason!" he said, loyal as ever.

"Oh, I know he does," hissed Jormungand cryptically.

The three of them fell into a thoughtful, gloomy silence.

Angrboda didn't stay to see if Fenrir would resume his story. She quietly made her way back to the kitchen and sat down at the table, hunched over it, her eyes staring down at her clasped hands unseeingly. She was probably more shocked by Fenrir's story than her children. Just as she knew all about Sleipnir, she had known that Loki had a wife in Asgard. He had told her himself. She even knew her name – Sigyn.

However, from what Loki had said, Angrboda had got the impression that he didn't care much for Sigyn. Their marriage had been arranged, Sigyn being a sort of "gift" from the other gods, but Loki had never seemed to care about her. He had often complained to Angrboda that Sigyn was a nuisance, an embarrassment, and drove him insane. Sometimes, he had even seemed to forget that she existed. He had once confessed that she was one of the reasons why he was rarely in his own hall.

When Angrboda had learnt about their marriage, she had been worried, but Loki's apparent indifference, bordering on dislike, towards Sigyn had filled the giantess' heart with hope. She had never dared to voice it, of course, but she, like her children, had always hoped that Loki would someday leave Sigyn and the gods and come to live in Jotunheim with his giant family, or at least come to visit much more frequently.

When he was absent for several years, she had figured that he must have been preoccupied with some business or other in Midgard, that maybe Odin had sent him on a particularly difficult mission, that he was out saving the worlds...

In truth, he might just as well have been having more children.

Angrboda wasn't so naïve. She was aware of Loki's nature and that he had many... admirers. She knew he often took advantage of that, as well. But those were only flings, nothing but harmless fun. Loki was charming and could – and would – win over any woman, but deep down he didn't care about them. Angrboda was fine with that; after all, giants were not strict about the number of sexual relationships one could have. But she had always been proud to be the only constant in Loki's life, the one target of his precious affections. Sigyn, even as his wife, had never been a threat to the bond between them.

Had that changed? Had Loki finally become closer to Sigyn, so close that they even had children? Was that why he had been absent for so long? Fenrir had said that Loki didn't care about his children with Sigyn, but what about Sigyn herself? What if he got truly attached to her, and then to their children as well? Would he even bother to visit his giant family any more, then?

The more she thought about it, she more likely it seemed. After all, he had already been away for years, and then he'd left abruptly after less than a day of visit, leaving his children all alone in the woods...

It broke her heart. Angrboda felt very lonely without him, but she felt much more aggrieved to see her children's loneliness. They desperately needed a father figure. At least Sigyn and her children lived with Loki, saw him every day, like a true family. It hurt Angrboda to see her own children hope, day after day, that their father would come to see them the next day, only to be disappointed time and time again.

If only they could go to Asgard... If only giants weren't feared and despised...

A tear drop fell on her hand, but she barely noticed it, too lost in her own despair and grief. In the complete silence of her abode, Angrboda quietly wept till the sun rose and she fell asleep where she sat.


	4. Friends

– **CHAPTER 4 –**

_**Friends**_

Neatly coiled on the counter at the kitchen, Jormungand watched as his mother cut the meat for their dinner, humming a cheery tune under her breath. He loved watching her work, especially when she cooked. He already knew every recipe she had used. He didn't do much to help, partly because he feared that he might end up doing just the opposite and partly because there really was very little he could realistically do to help. Mostly, he fetched her ingredients and utensils and kept her company, for which Angrboda was thankful. Of all her three children, she felt Jormungand was the one she was closest to, despite his reserved nature. He wasn't interested in playing outside like Fenrir or reading books like Hel. She suspected Jormungand actually preferred his mother's company to his father's or his siblings'.

Only a few years had passed and yet Jormungand was already longer than Angrboda was tall and almost as thick around as her leg. It was as though he grew a little every day, unlike Hel, who hadn't changed much at all. Even Fenrir wasn't growing that fast. Soon Jormungand wouldn't be able to sit on the counter any more.

Jormungand himself could feel he was growing at an alarming rate. It was very irritating, actually, because growing fast also meant that he had to shed his skin more often, and shedding was a terribly uncomfortable thing. Even now, he was already showing signs that he would be shedding again very soon. His mother, knowing how poorly he felt at these times, suggested that he go sleep it off, but he insisted he was fine. In truth, he didn't want to leave his mother alone.

It wasn't just that he enjoyed watching her cook. He also wanted to make sure she wouldn't hurt herself in the process. She was a great cook, but she tended to get dangerously clumsy when she was preoccupied, nervous, or angry. This time she was neither angry nor particularly nervous, but he could tell her head was in the clouds. The fact that she was humming was a hint that she probably wasn't as focused on her work as she should have been, which put Jormungand on edge. He kept his eyes on the very sharp knife that Angrboda was using to cut the meat into pieces while his mind was occasionally assaulted by images of that same knife cutting her finger off or flying across the kitchen...

Fortunately, nothing of the sort happened and soon Angrboda set the knife down, though she did knock over a couple of pots when doing so. She gasped and bent down to look at the mess on the floor. Jormungand noticed the knife was looming with its sharp end just above her head, so he inconspicuously moved it away with his tail.

"Can I help, Mother?" he offered.

"Oh, no, I'm fine, dear, thank you," she replied distractedly as she cleaned the floor.

Jormungand sighed in disappointment. He was tired of just watching his mother do all the work. His siblings never helped at all, even though they _could_. His poor overworked mother... He hadn't given it much thought when he'd been younger, but as time passed, he grew increasingly aware of the troubles his mother had to go through for the sake of her children's comfort. Besides, he hated it when things were dirty or messy. It wasn't just aesthetically unpleasant, but he often also had to crawl over it, which he found simply repulsive. Not to mention all that dust he had to breathe...

He spied a white cloth on the other side of the counter, which was also messy from part of the contents of the pots Angrboda had knocked over. Jormungand wasn't sure he could make his way to the cloth without knocking something over himself, and besides, his mother had already refused his help, so he tried to ignore the mess on the counter. It was useless, though; his gaze kept being drawn to it against his will. He was itching to clean.

Maybe if he were really careful...

Slowly, he uncoiled himself and began to slither over to the white cloth. He moved with the utmost care not to knock over any of the several pots, jars, cups, flasks, and bowls on the counter. He also did everything in his power not to crawl over the spilled mess (some kind of gravy and spice, by the smell of it), but it was an impossible task. He flinched when he felt his midsection touch it and sighed in exasperation. Oh, well, he would take care of that later.

He took the cloth in his jaws and paused for a moment. It would be awkward to work like this. He'd probably be better off holding the cloth with his tail – which was still on his initial spot on the other side of the counter. He really had become very long, he reflected with some annoyance. He began to bring his tail closer...

Having just finished cleaning the floor, Angrboda stood up with a tired sigh, just in time to see her youngest son's tail knocking over a third of the ingredients all over the counter and the floor. She winced at the sound of breaking china and looked down in dismay.

"I just finished cleaning it!" she wailed.

"I-I'm so sorry, Mother!" exclaimed a mortified Jormungand, his voice trembling. "I – I just wanted to help!"

His mother was much too nice to snap at him or make a sarcastic comment like Fenrir would have done. She didn't even look angry at all, only stared at the floor with a drained, dejected expression, which was even worse. Jormungand's stomach twisted with guilt.

"I'll clean it up myself!" he said in earnest, but his mother shook her head.

"No, no, it's fine. I can take care of it." Somehow, she managed to smile. A sincere smile, too, though not as bright as usual. She took the white cloth and wiped the gravy off his scales. "This is nothing; I'm used to it. I do this kind of thing all the time, after all."

"I'm so stupid," he muttered, deeply ashamed.

"No, you're not," she said, her voice gentle but firm. She looked at him in the eyes and frowned, leaning closer to inspect him. "You're half-blind," she stated.

Jormungand stared at her in surprise. It was true, he couldn't see very well. Even as he regarded his mother now, she looked a little blurry and off-colour. One of the joys of skin-shedding. He hadn't thought it was noticeable to anyone but himself, though.

"It's no excuse," he hissed, still angry at himself.

"Why don't you go to the lake, dear? The water should make you feel better. And then you could sleep it off," she suggested again.

"Yes, Mother," he acquiesced, although he had no intention of going to the lake or sleeping. He wasn't in the mood to swim – not like it would bring much relief, anyway – and he was feeling too uncomfortable to be able to sleep. Right now, he only wanted to crawl under a rock and die there.

He meekly slithered off the counter and out of the kitchen. He wasn't going back there any time soon.

Fenrir was right, he thought bitterly. He was so useless! No wonder his father didn't like him.

He found Hel in the sitting room, her knees drawn up and her nose buried in a book. She really hadn't changed much in the last few years. She was still a shy, petite little girl. She looked so cute when she read; she always did it with such deep concentration and seriousness. Nowadays, all she did was read. They didn't have many books, so she would reread the same ones over and over, as if trying to memorise them or find a new small detail that she had missed the previous times.

After the incident with the giantess Herkja, Angrboda had started to teach her children all she knew about magic. Their mother was an accomplished witch, after all, probably the most powerful being in all of Ironwood, even though she practically lived in isolation and sometimes seemed to be afraid of her own shadow. Naturally, she wanted to make sure that her children would inherit all her knowledge and be able to defend themselves.

Unfortunately, her two sons weren't very good at it. Jormungand could manage, with some effort, but Fenrir either didn't have the gift or just wasn't interested at all – or maybe both. Hel, on the other hand, turned out to be a real prodigy. She was a fast learner and could cast almost any spell right in the first try. Considering her lineage on both sides, it wasn't surprising. The troll-women from Angrboda's clan all had a natural gift for magic.

Jormungand coiled up before his sister and watched her for a moment. Either she was ignoring him, or she was completely oblivious to his presence. Probably the latter, since she was very absorbed in her reading.

"What are you reading, Sister?" he asked her, feeling curious.

She didn't jump in surprise, but lowered her book slowly and raised her head ever so slightly in order to meet his gaze with an unblinking, blank stare.

"Magic," she whispered simply and went back to reading.

He wasn't surprised that she was reading about magic. He knew she loved reading stories – as well as just about anything in written form, really – but more often than not she would be reading about magic. To study, she had once said. To learn.

"You shouldn't read in the dark," he told her gently. He might be half-blind, but he could tell that it was quite dark, since the sun was setting. He didn't think reading in such dim light was healthy. Whenever Hel did that, she would end up bleary-eyed, blink and rub at her eyes a lot, and complain that things looked sort of blurry. Much more of that and she would probably become blinder than him.

Hel ignored him.

Jormungand stared up at her forlornly.

She continued to ignore him.

He shifted on the floor, feeling lonely despite not being alone, on top of feeling sore, itchy, and a little sick.

"Can you read to me?" he asked, aware that he probably sounded pathetic. Good thing Fenrir wasn't around to mock him.

"Read to yourself," she said.

"I can't. I can't see very well," he whispered.

Hel looked up from her book and regarded him for while. Then, her expression softened and she closed the book, smiling.

"I see," she said, leaning close and reaching out. He winced and hissed when she touched his scales.

"Please, don't touch me," he beseeched. "It'll only feel worse..." There was also another reason why he didn't want to be touched, but he spoke the truth; his skin felt painfully stretched and unpleasant to himself. It was bad enough that he had to touch the ground...

Hel nodded in understanding, her smile unwavering. She had forgotten how uncomfortable he should be. Setting her book aside, she got up and went over to the small, low shelf where they kept the story books. Standing on her toes, Hel let her fingers hover over the books, trying to decide which one she should read. At last, she selected one of the oldest ones volumes.

"Thank you, Sister," he said, delighted. "Though... I still don't think you should be reading in the dark."

Hel sent him a glare as she settled back down on the couch. "Do you want me to read to you or not?"

"I do, Sister, I do! But maybe you should light a candle or something..."

"Nonsense, I can read just fine like this."

She had barely finished the first sentence of the book when Fenrir came in and watched his two siblings for a moment.

"You two are so pathetic," he scoffed.

Both Hel and Jormungand turned to look at him in surprise. Their older brother, who was now nearly the size of an ordinary adult wolf, though, being a giant, he was still a child, was regarding the both of them with some annoyance.

"And depressing," he added. "It's a beautiful night outside. How can you stand to stay here, cooped up like caged animals, reading in the dark, when you could be out there enjoying yourselves?"

"_We _are not allowed outside at night, Brother. You know that," said Hel. "And there's nothing wrong with reading a good book. It can take us beyond even Ironwood without us having to leave the house, and it can be more exciting than anything in the wood without actually endangering us."

"I think I'd rather live a mildly dull, but _real_, life than live in a world of dreams," muttered Fenrir. "Mum is busy at the kitchen. She wouldn't even know you even left if you come back in a couple of hours. I promise I won't tell her."

"No, thank you," said Hel, determined.

"Suit yourself," Fenrir shrugged. Not even bothering to wait for Jormungand's reply, he left.

While Hel started reading the book again, Jormungand watched his brother – or rather, looked in his general direction – with curiosity and just a little suspicion.

Fenrir had recently developed the habit of going out every night only to return just before dawn. When asked about what he had been doing, he would vaguely answer that he had been exploring the wood or hanging out with friends. That was truthful enough, since he came back smelling of other wolves and sometimes meat and blood. Angrboda realised this, but did nothing to stop him, nor did she ever press him for details. Wolves were social creatures, and she understood that Fenrir needed to be around his kind at least once in a while.

However, for the past month or so, those smells had been waning and being replaced with a new, powerful smell that Jormungand couldn't quite identify – all that he knew was that it was probably of a giantess. When he had tried bringing it up to Fenrir, his elder brother had feigned total ignorance, snapped that it was none of his business anyway, and quickly changed the subject.

Jormungand would very much like to know who exactly this mysterious giantess was. He could only hope, though, that she didn't mean any harm...

oOo

Fenrir sauntered into the territory of the most ancient and prestigious clan in Ironwood as if he owned the place, barely paying any attention to the other wolves and giantesses he met on the way. The older wolves greeted him, while some the younger ones gave him dark looks that he ignored.

Not long ago, Fenrir and those young wolves had all been playmates.

Herkja and her clan had been very accepting of him, despite their brief quarrel a few years ago. They had all treated him like one of their own, with no exceptions. The older members had taken him on hunting parties and the children had played with him and looked at him with admiring eyes.

That had been before Hrygda.

Hrygda, Herkja's daughter, had also been one of the little wolves' playmate, though none of them had paid her much attention back then. She had always been a wild, tough child, even for a giantess, but fairly unremarkable in appearance and wit. As she grew older, she began to distance herself from the younger wolves and spend more time with the other giantesses, especially those who were of high hierarchy in the clan.

Almost instinctively, the wolves had started to seek her out – Fenrir included. For some reason they couldn't quite understand, they were attracted to Hrygda and yearned for her attention. The elders of the clan were quite amused by this.

And, much to the young ones' dismay, Fenrir seemed to have become Hrygda's favourite. Thus, the admiration they felt for him had gradually turned into resentment. But none of that mattered to Fenrir; as long as he could continue to be friends with Hrygda, he didn't really care what the others thought of him.

Fenrir found her outside, sitting on a large flat rock at a clearing and surrounded by playful puppies and young wolves. Fenrir paused to watch her for a moment. Her long, dark hair was a wild mess, her clothes a little battered, but considerably cleaner than usual, her face, arms, and hands covered in thin scars – which was only to be expected in this clan. Hrygda wasn't very pretty or graceful or even exceptionally clever, but there was something about her, a certain spark, that made her fascinating to all the young wolves.

Maybe it was her laughter; she had a contagious kind of laugh that seemed to fill everyone around her with joy – Fenrir felt stupid just thinking about something so sappy, but it _was_ true – and Hrygda laughed a lot... Maybe that was what made her different from all the other females Fenrir knew. She was happy, and very vocal about it, but not annoyingly so. She wasn't like Hel or Angrboda, who were so sad and quiet, or that blonde cat-woman in Asgard, who had been so angry and nervous.

Wagging his tail, Fenrir approached the group. The puppies and the giantess greeted him warmly. The others fell silent and backed away. They seemed... wary of him? Fenrir threw them a confused look, but didn't wonder about it for long and soon focused his attention on Hrygda.

She clasped her hands and grinned at the wolves.

"Guys, I feel like going for a stroll! Who wants to come with me?"

There was a chorus of, "I do! I do!"

"No, no, you can't," she told the puppies. "You're too young to go too far. You'd better go back to the clan, or Mother will get mad at you again."

They whined in disappointment, but obliged. After making sure that none of the little ones would linger nearby and try to follow the older ones, Hrygda led the small group out into the wood.

The moon hadn't come out yet, and it was unlikely it would. It was getting dark quickly, and soon Fenrir was barely able to see any of his companions. Of course, he could still smell and hear them perfectly, so there was no risk of getting lost from them. They were in a relatively deserted, peaceful area of the wood and were quite confident that nothing there could or would harm them. And yet, as they went farther and farther from the rest of the clan, they began to feel uneasy. None of them made any comment about it, but they could sense the growing dread in each other.

Fenrir felt it, too. He wanted to speak up and suggest that they go back, but he didn't want the others to think he was cowardly. Only little puppies could afford to make such a suggestion, and while he was the youngest of this party, he felt he was old enough to know better. They would go back only when the leader, Hrygda, decided to go back.

"Someone's here," said Hrygda, and though she spoke quietly, her voice sounded so loud and ominous in the eerie silence of the wood that it startled the wolves, who had already been on edge.

"Someone? A intruder?" whispered one of them.

"Don't you feel it?" she asked them. "It's a very powerful presence... I can tell it's trying to conceal itself, but it's so powerful that it can't – not completely, at least."

"A presence..."

Intrigued, the wolves began to sniff the air, hoping to catch the intruder's scent.

"Is it evil?" asked another wolf.

"I'm not sure... Yes, I think so. Or maybe not... I mean –" After a long pause, she said, "Slightly evil, at least. I can't be too sure. But it also feels... a little scared."

"Maybe it's a troll that got hurt," said one of the wolves.

"Trolls aren't usually this powerful," Hrygda pointed out.

"A witch, then?" suggested Fenrir. "Maybe it's her first time here." After all, even powerful magic-users were afraid of venturing into Ironwood on a moonless night. Its inhabitants were very wary, if not downright hostile, towards outlanders.

"Let's find out!" whispered Hrygda.

Despite her companions' alarmed protests, she went on ahead. Reluctantly, the other wolves followed her, without making a noise. Then, all of a sudden, they heard rather than saw the young giantess leap forwards with a shrill, roaring war cry (she always did say that subtlety was for the weak). Her cry was followed by a startled yelp, a thud, and a gasp.

Just when the wolves were catching up, the wood lit up on flames and the wolves were rendered blind for a moment. Fenrir was so shocked that the familiar scent he picked up barely registered until his sight came back and he saw Hrygda struggling on the ground with...

"Dad?!" yelped Fenrir in disbelief. His blinked his eyes, making sure he wasn't seeing things as a side effect from the blinding flames that still burnt brightly around them.

The brawling couple froze and looked up at him. Fenrir had no more doubt about who Hrygda's adversary was. Ignoring the stares he was getting, Fenrir hurried up to them.

"Stop, Hrygda! That's my dad!" he shouted.

Hrygda and Loki looked at Fenrir, then at each other, and the next moment they were standing up and keeping well away from each other. Loki quickly regained his composure and smoothed out his slightly rumpled clothes and hair, so that one couldn't even tell that he had been rolling on the ground in an undignified struggle just seconds before. Hrygda, for her part, just gave him and Fenrir confused looks and stepped away.

"What are you saying, Fenrir? He's your father?"

"Yep!" answered Fenrir, although he looked a little uncertainly at his father's frowning face.

Loki met his gaze and smiled. Encouraged, Fenrir leapt on him to give his father a proper greeting, licking his face and wagging his tail.

"Dad, I missed you so much!"

"I missed you, too, Fenrir. I'm sorry I couldn't visit any sooner."

"Wait a moment!" exclaimed a disturbed Hrygda, pointing at Loki. "I know you! You're the evil god Loki!"

Loki shoot her a sharp look, all the warmth in his eyes gone.

"You didn't know?" said Fenrir, surprised. "I thought I'd told you that Loki was my dad!"

"Yes, well, how could you expect us to believe that?" she retorted, flustered. "I mean, I knew you were Lady Angrboda's son, but that you're also the god Loki's son, that was a bit too much..."

"Fenrir, who are they?" asked Loki, and the hostility in his voice took Fenrir aback.

"They're my friends, Dad," he answered, frowning in confusion. He felt as though he was missing something important here, but had no idea what. "From Lady Herkja's clan, the oldest clan in Ironwood."

"Ah. Your mother's clan," whispered Loki, nodding in understanding.

"I'm very sorry for attacking you, Lord Loki," said Hrygda. She looked like she was going to bow to him, but Fenrir knew she was too proud to bow to anyone other than her elders in the clan. She began to back away, signalling at the other wolves to do the same. "Won't happen again," she added for good measure. Then, with an unladylike squeak, she turned tail and fled along with the others.

Fenrir stared after them, nonplussed. He had always thought that if his friends ever had the chance to meet his father, they would be really excited about it. Instead, they seemed to be terrified of him. Fenrir couldn't imagine why. It wasn't as though his father would hurt them without a good reason, and Hrygda _had_ apologised for attacking him...

Just in case, the little wolf turned to look at his father. But no, Loki was as bewildered as him.

"Well, that was unexpected. Why did they run away?" he wondered.

"I don't know, Dad. I think they were scared of you."

"Scared of me?" Loki was flabbergasted for a moment. Then, he sighed and patted Fenrir's head. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare your friends. On the contrary, I really wanted to meet them properly – especially your girlfriend."

"Girlfriend?" Fenrir blinked twice and burst into laughter. "She's not my girlfriend, Dad!"

"Oh?" Loki arched a dubious eyebrow.

"'Course not! She's only a friend!"

Up went that eyebrow. Fenrir twitched.

"Really!" he insisted. Honestly, how could his father think that he and Hrygda could be anything other than friends? His father got some really weird ideas into his head sometimes...

"All right, Fenrir," Loki chuckled, petting him again. "If you say so. In any case, I'm on my way to see your mother and siblings. Will you come with me, or would you rather go after your girlf― sorry, your wolf friends?"

"I'm coming with you, of course!" replied Fenrir enthusiastically and without hesitation. If he were honest with himself, he was a little disappointed that Hrygda had run off and he wouldn't see her any more tonight. Then again, he could always see her again any time he wanted, whereas his father's visits were few and far between, therefore much more important. "Mum will be so happy to see you! She's been really sad lately... I think she misses you a lot."

"Hmm..." Loki snapped his fingers and the flames disappeared into thin air, leaving no smell or trace that anything had burnt at all. "We better hurry up, then."

oOo

This time, Loki wasn't so nervous about going to see his giant family. It hadn't been _that _long since he'd last visited, and he was absolutely certain that no one had followed him from Asgard. Admittedly, it had been a nasty surprise when that pack of wolves had caught him, but no harm done there. They were Fenrir's friends and from Angrboda's old clan, so Loki knew he could trust them to keep his secret, even if worst came to worst.

Fenrir had grown quite a bit, though he was still a child by giant standards – which would explain why he wasn't gloating about having got a lovely mate. Loki was glad; that meant he really hadn't been away for so long that he would have missed out on practically all of his children's childhood. Loki didn't care much for children, but he had to admit – if only to himself – that he was really fond of Fenrir.

"So, your mother has been sad?" he asked his son in an undertone as they neared their hut. "Not angry at all?"

"No, not Mum. She's never angry," replied Fenrir.

"What about your sister? And your brother?"

"I think Hel's been too busy with other things to get angry. She's a lot calmer these days. I guess she just needed a hobby, after all. As for Jormungand... Who ever knows what he's thinking? He mostly keeps Mum company. He hasn't changed at all."

Loki nodded, coming to a halt before the wooden door. Confident that he wouldn't have to dodge any sharp or heavy objects thrown his way by enraged relatives, he opened the door slowly. It was pitch dark, but he could hear a series of small thuds from the kitchen and a girlish voice narrating a story from another room.

Fenrir rushed in the direction of the latter.

"Guys, guys! Guess who's here!" he yapped in excitement.

Loki paused at the doorway to the sitting room to watch Fenrir's siblings. He could see Hel in the light of a candle, a book in her hands. Just looking at her, he couldn't have told that it had been years since his last visit; she hadn't changed at all. This time, her bright green eyes shone not with resentment or sorrow, but only sheer amazement.

However, Loki was the most surprised of all, when he detected some movement in the shadows near Hel and saw that there was a huge snake coiled not far from his feet. Loki lost his composure for a moment and couldn't help but gawk at his youngest son. By Yggdrasil, he had grown so much! The last time Loki had seen him, Jormungand had been no longer than his arm – now he must be longer than Loki was tall. After seeing Fenrir and Hel, who hadn't changed that much, this was certainly a great shock...

"Father!" exclaimed a flustered Hel as she leapt to her feet, dropping the book she had been reading. She dithered, wringing her hands, her gaze lowering timidly. "Welcome home, Father," she said quietly. Jormungand soon echoed her words, rearing up so as to bow to him.

Well, well, Loki thought in satisfaction. It wasn't the warmest welcome he had ever received, but it was a vast improvement from the last time. At least no one was glaring at him, and they actually spoke to him with no trace of anger in their voices.

Before Loki could reply to their greeting, Angrboda showed up at the other door, which led to the kitchen. She had smudges of flour on her face and stains of sauce on her clothes, as well as a deep red stain on her right sleeve.

"Angrboda, you're bleeding!" he said in alarm.

"Mother, are you all right?" asked Jormungand, quickly slithering over to her.

"I'm – I'm fine," she said faintly.

Loki also approached her, careful not to step on his youngest son. He gently took Angrboda's right arm in his hand and asked Hel to bring the candle closer so he could take a better look at the wound. He was relieved to see that it had only been a small cut.

"We should clean that up," he told her.

Angrboda looked up at him with shimmering eyes, as though she were about to burst into tears. Loki knew quite well it had nothing to do with the pain of her wound.

"I know I had to leave... earlier than I'd planned last time, but..." he began, leading her to the couch. He felt a tug on his trouser leg and turned to look at his two youngest children, who had brought some bandages. He thanked them and began to clean Angrboda's would and wrap the bandages around it. He wasn't making a very good job at it, despite his sincere efforts, but he could tell that she appreciated it.

"I arranged things so that I could stay here for at least a month or two," he continued. "That is, unless you don't want me to –" he broke off when Angrboda's hands touched the sides of his head and his cheeks. She didn't say anything, just stared at him for a moment, her eyes feverish. Loki stared back, drinking in the sight of her. She looked quite adorable with those smudges of flour all over her hair and face and the slight, pink flush on her cheeks. Before he had another thought, Angrboda pulled him closer and kissed him.

Definitely a much warmer welcome.

"I missed you..." she whispered when they broke off momentarily minutes later to catch their breath. Her arms snaked around his torso and embraced him tightly. She looked at him with half-lidded eyes, tears at last spilling over.

They barely noticed when the children made themselves scarce, disgusted at the kiss yet heartened at their parents' reunion.


	5. Enemies

**Author's note**: Sorry about the delay! To make up for it, I'm giving a double update. Chapter 4 just kept getting longer and longer, until I thought it was never going to end, so I had to split it into two chapters.

Many thanks to all those who have read and reviewed and/or added this fic to their favourites/alert list/C2!

* * *

– **CHAPTER 5 –**

_**Enemies**_

A couple of weeks passed and Loki remained in Angrboda's abode, still showing no sign of wanting to leave any time soon. He spent most of his time with Fenrir and Angrboda.

Truth be told, the two major reasons why he had come to visit his giant family early were that Sigyn had been driving him crazy back home (she could be so fussy sometimes) and that he had actually begun to miss Angrboda. Loki had, after all, always preferred Angrboda over Sigyn, and it had been an awfully long time since they'd last slept together. Loki appreciated that Sigyn always did her best to please him, but sometimes her attentions were such that they made him feel smothered. Besides, he just didn't feel as comfortable with her as he did with Angrboda. Perhaps it was because Angrboda was a giant like him, so he could identify with her better.

Similarly, Loki didn't feel awkward at all with Fenrir. He knew Fenrir loved him unconditionally, and Loki honestly enjoyed his eldest son's company. Loki was not above favouritism, and Fenrir had always been his favourite child, though Loki kept that thought to himself. It probably helped that Fenrir's personality was more similar to his own. Every day, they'd leave right after lunch to play and forage outside till night fell. Loki was a little disappointed that they never encountered Fenrir's new friends again. He made a mental note to bring that up when the opportunity arose.

Sometimes, during meals, Loki would make an effort to interact with Hel. She seemed more at ease in his presence these days, so he responded in kind. She was always with her nose buried in a book or trying to cast a spell. Loki was impressed. She was a natural! He felt... something like pride for her. His smiles when he watched her were now fully genuine. He had never cared much for little girls, or little children in general, but Hel was just so adorable! He felt a little foolish just thinking about it, so he didn't say anything out loud, but he did make a point of praising her whenever she successfully cast a spell, no matter how simple it was. On those occasions, she would blush and smile timidly, but delightedly, and Loki had to fight the ridiculous urge to glomp her.

The problem was his youngest son, Jormungand. He seemed to be avoiding not only Loki, but the world in general. Loki rarely saw him around, even during the meals. One might even forget that he existed.

At the moment, Loki was busy finishing his lunch, slipping scraps over to Fenrir without Angrboda noticing, and watching Hel cast some kind of spell on her water. He did feel something – or someone – was missing, but didn't give it too much thought.

"What are you doing, Hel?" he asked.

"I'm trying to turn the water into ale," she replied quietly, her focused gaze never leaving the water.

"Ale?!" Loki arched an eyebrow and threw Angrboda a mock-stern glance. "Is that what you've been teaching your child? And you say _I'm _irresponsible!" It was good-natured teasing, of course, and Angrboda gave him an amused, quiet smile in return. He actually approved of Hel's choice of spell. Maybe there was hope for her yet, hope that she might turn out to be as interesting as himself.

"Hey, Dad!" said Fenrir eagerly, wagging his tail. "Are you done yet? Can we go out for a stroll now?"

Loki opened his mouth to say, "Of course!" but Angrboda beat him to it.

"Actually, Fenrir, your father and I have to talk, and he won't be able to play with you today."

Uh-oh, Loki thought. That sounded unpleasantly ominous. Nothing good ever followed those words and that tone of voice that was neutral and unassuming, yet had an underlying hint of something that, to Loki, just screamed _I'm _Not_ Amused_. What had he done wrong this time?

"Oh," said Fenrir, clearly disappointed. "All right..." He gave his father a curious look and left. Hel sensed it was also her cue to leave and silently followed her brother, still holding the water cup.

Loki slowly turned to face Angrboda, expecting to see her glaring at him or about to burst into soppy tears. He was surprised, then, to see that she was smiling at him – and a genuinely happy smile it was.

"I'm really glad that you're warming up to the children at last," she said. "And also that you've been here all this time, after so many years!"

Loki shrugged. Saying that he was "warming up to the children" was, in his far from humble opinion, an overly optimistic way of putting it. But it seemed to make Angrboda happy, so he kept silent and just waited for her to get to the point.

"You're even getting along with Hel," she continued, being too optimistic again. Her smile faded. "But I don't understand why you've been ignoring our youngest son."

"Who, Jormungand? I haven't been ignoring him!" Loki defended himself. "It's not my fault he's never around. If he –"

"You're avoiding him," said Angrboda with a hint of reproach.

"No," said Loki slowly and pointedly. "_He's_ avoiding _me._"

"He is a little shy, but if only you would reach out to him..."

"Angrboda," said Loki in a tone of finality, "I don't think he likes me very much. In fact, it's quite possible that he hates me."

The giantess shook her head in earnest. "That's not true, Loki! He's your son! He loves you! How could he not love you? He's such a polite, sweet little boy –"

"– snake –" he corrected under his breath.

"– who could never, ever hate anyone, let alone his own father!"

"If you say so, Angrboda..."

"Please, Loki," she beseeched. "Stay with your son at least for one day! He needs you!"

But I don't need him, Loki mentally protested. He didn't usually go out of his way to be friendly to anyone who couldn't serve him any kind of purpose. Whether it was to get something he wanted or simply for his own amusement, there was always a reason for him to approach anyone.

Then again, he reflected, he just might benefit from getting along with his youngest son, after all. Angrobda was very happy that his relationship with their two other children had improved. One more and Angrboda would unquestioningly fall back into his arms, just like in the old days.

With a sigh, he went off in search of Jormungand. It took him a while to find him. How could such a large snake hide so well, he wondered? This only added to his suspicions that Jormungand was deliberately avoiding him.

There was no other way. He was going to have to shout out his name.

"Jormungand!"

This was so undignified, shouting like a lunatic in his own home. Usually it was other people who cried out for him, not the other way round.

"Jormungand! Jormu―Ack!" he yelped when he tripped over something and nearly fell face-first on the floor. As it was, he ended up on his knees and hands. Fuming, he quickly got back up and looked down to see what had caused him to fall. His gaze softened ever so slightly. "Ah, there you are," he said, trying not to sound annoyed.

"I'm sorry I made you trip, Father," said Jormungand, his voice strained.

Loki frowned and noticed how his son was nursing a small coil, realising that was what he had tripped over. "Are you hurt?" he asked.

"Not at all, Father!" Jormungand was quick to assure him. "You were looking for me?"

"Yes," said Loki. He then paused for a moment to choose his words. "I was wondering if you'd like to go out for a stroll with me."

"Really?" Jormungand's voice was surprised and hopeful, but he soon deflated and hung his head. "I'm sorry, Father, but this isn't a very good time."

"Oh, come on," Loki insisted. "It's a beautiful day outside. Very sunny and warm. Snakes are supposed to like that sort of thing, right?"

Jormungand was silent and unmoving, his eyes dull, and Loki had the distinct impression that he had said something wrong.

"I realise we haven't spent much time together," Loki rallied. "We need some father-son bonding time, wouldn't you say?"

Jormungand's body twitched a little. He looked rather flustered. "I-I would be honoured, Father!"

"Good! Um, do you want me to carry you?"

"Er... No, thank you, Father."

Loki shrugged and beckoned at his son to follow him. As they left and went into the wood, Loki watched him from the corner of his eye. There was something odd about Jormungand. Odder than usual, that is. The serpent had never been as lively and active as his brother Fenrir, but he seemed slower than usual now. He looked tired and uncomfortable, and Loki didn't think it was because he was feeling awkward in his father's presence. Even his scales and eyes were duller. It seemed Jormungand had meant it when he'd said this wasn't a good time to go out.

"Jormungand, are you ill?"

His son looked up at him in surprise. "Ill? Why, no, Father..."

Loki let the subject drop, even though he could see that snake's eyes were opaque and unfocused. If Jormungand wanted to pretend he was fine, Loki certainly wasn't going to argue with him. If something was wrong, he'd find out sooner or later anyway.

They stopped at a clearing, the same one where years ago he and his three children had agreed to meet before Thor had showed up and dragged Loki back to Asgard. Loki sat down on a nice, sunny spot and sighed heavily. This was such a waste time! He couldn't believe he would have to spend the whole day like this. He'd much rather be playing with Fenrir or, even better, enjoying Angrboda's company. That was what he had come here for in the first place, after all.

A sharp hiss made him jerk his head up. Jormungand was writhing on the ground, as though he were in his death throes. Loki eyed him and frowned, a little worried despite himself.

"Are you sure you're all right?" he asked.

"Yesss," hissed Jormungand agonisingly. "Just – just a moment..."

Loki grew steadily alarmed when his son began to knock his own head against a rather sharp rock on the ground and rub against it.

"Jormungand, what in the nine worlds –" he broke off when the snake's skin ripped open at the nose and mouth and Jormungand appeared to slither out of his own skin, turning it inside out. It was one of the most bizarre things that Loki had ever seen, and he had seen many bizarre things in his life.

As soon as his entire skin was off, Jormungand looked like a whole new snake. His scales were now bright-coloured and shiny, his eyes sharp and focused, and he even looked as perky as Fenrir. Loki even thought he was smiling, although it was hard to tell on a reptilian face.

"What was that all about?" asked Loki.

"It was time for me to shed. Sorry to keep you waiting," said Jormungand, sounding more cheerful than he had ever before. "I feel much better now!"

"Is that... normal, then?" Admittedly, Loki didn't know much about snakes, only that they liked warmth, hibernated in the winter, and some were venomous.

"Yes, Father. All snakes shed their skins once in a while."

"That's interesting." Loki walked over to the old shed skin and examined it in his hands. It looked like a snake that had been sucked dry – it was a little eerie, actually. Even now, his mind was whirling with thoughts of all the pranks he could pull with this. He smirked and turned to look at his son. "What else can you do that I don't know?"

"Nothing, Father," answered Jormungand, not as cheerfully any more. He quickly recovered, though. "Well, except maybe swallow a rabbit whole?"

Loki's eyebrows shot up. "You can do that? Even an adult one?" It was hard to believe. Jormungand might be the largest snake he had ever seen, but his head was still much smaller than a rabbit, and his body wasn't nearly thick enough...

"Yes, Father," said Jormungand, the pride in his voice bordering on smugness. "More than one adult, actually, if I'm really hungry."

"That's amazing..." murmured Loki, lost in thought. Now he could see why so many people were scared of snakes. He was definitely going to get one – or maybe turn himself into one – when he went back to Asgard and scare the living daylights out of all the gods. Or, even better... "Jormungand, have you ever pulled a prank on someone?"

"A what?" Jormungand looked very surprised. "Oh, er, only the occasional harmless joke on Big Brother – as payback for the ones he plays on me. Why – why do you ask?"

"How would you like to give people a good fright as a prank?"

Jormungand looked completely baffled by the suggestion, which didn't really surprise Loki. Jormungand had always struck him as severely lacking a sense of humour. Fortunately, he was still young and Loki could still teach him.

"Come on," said Loki, gently nudging him. "It'll be fun!"

"If you say so, Father..." said Jormungand, still confused, but now also a little excited.

Smiling, Loki picked him up and let him coil over his shoulders and around his torso. Jormungand had got considerably heavier since the last time, but it was nothing Loki couldn't easily handle. This prank would be fantastic! Nothing like a _real_ large and scary snake; it was better than finding a smaller one from the wild or turning himself into one.

It briefly occurred to him that it might be unwise to expose Jormungand like this, but then, he figured the poor boy needed to have some fun and excitement in his life.

He felt Jormungand shift around him, felt his uneasiness. Loki stood still, eyes closed, until he calmed down. Then, a bright pair of wings unfurled from his back and spread. Jormungand was a little startled at first, but quickly relaxed and stared in awe at the shining pinions.

"Th-they're beautiful, Father..." whispered Jormungand, his tongue flicking madly at them.

To his credit, Loki didn't reply with a smug "I know," though he did smirk in a none-too-humble way.

Without another word, Loki took a leap into the air and flew above the trees of Ironwood. Jormungand gasped and curled a little tighter around his father.

"Where are we going?!" he asked.

"To Asgard, of course!" said Loki, doing a somersault just for fun. "You wouldn't scare anyone in Jotunheim, and the people of Midgard are so easily scared by anything that it's not even funny. Trust me, nothing is more amusing than pulling a prank on the so-called proud gods of Asgard!"

oOo

Jormungand was thrilled; never had he felt so genuinely happy or excited about anything. He was finally alone with his father, and his father was actually showing interest in him! He had even invited him to take part in one of his games. He had willingly touched Jormungand's scales and showed no disgust or discomfort whatsoever. He had showed Jormungand his magnificent wings and taken him flying.

Flying... What an amazing experience! Being a snake, he was unused to such heights. He had, of course, climbed up trees and whatnot, but he had never come so high before, and climbing and falling just couldn't be compared with actually flying.

As if that all weren't enough, his father was taking him to Asgard of all places! Even Fenrir, who was Loki's favourite child, hadn't had the honour of being personally taken to Asgard by Loki himself. In fact, Loki had pretty much kicked him out when he'd gone to Asgard on his own. Oh, this was too good to be true... Fenrir would die of jealousy when he heard about this.

He settled his head on his father's shoulder, content to feel the warmth of his body as well as that of the sun protect him from the cool wind up here, watching the world below them, so small and yet breathtaking.

"Did you hear something?" asked Loki all of a sudden. Jormungand raised his head slightly.

"Hm? No, Father, not―" he broke off when he did hear a progressively loud noise. He strained to listen. It sounded like a war cry of sorts...

The next thing he knew, a man-shaped figure was in the air, casting a shadow on them and growing bigger as it approached. Father and son cried out when the figure descended on them with a sparking hammer at lightning speed. Loki tried to dodge it and reflexively raised his arms to shield himself, but he wasn't quick or strong enough to ward it off.

The hammer hit Jormungand – not as hard as he had expected, but still hard enough to nearly cause him to pass out. The world became a black-tinged blur that swam and spun dizzily in his vision. Jormungand had never been in this much pain; it was much worse than when he had fallen from one of the higher trees in Ironwood, or when Loki had trodden on him when he had been about to shed. It wasn't only the strength of the blow, but he also felt as though he had been struck by lightning. His body was paralysed.

He only came to after hitting the ground. It hurt, but at least the impact jolted him back to awareness. He weakly raised his head and looked up in search of his father and their assailant. Loki had been thrown off balance by the attack and was awkwardly fluttering downwards while the hammer-wielding figure was landing on the ground. It approached Jormungand, seeming to have no interest in Loki. As it got closer, Jormungand was able to identify it.

It was a burly, dark-haired man about Loki's age. He smelled strongly of giant blood, sweat, and iron, and Jormungand could swear he also smelled electricity and triumph, if that was even possible. Jormungand recognised this man; he was the one who had years ago dragged Loki back to Asgard.

He was Thor the god of thunder.

Thor's dark eyes glimmered and his lip curled up in a predatory smile as he surveyed Jormungand's long, prostrated body. He raised the hammer over his head in preparation for a second blow. Too weak to try to defend himself, flee, or even speak, Jormungand only flinched and quivered, silently begging for his father's help.

"This is your end, you nefarious beast!" shouted Thor, looking very proud of himself. "This will teach you not to pick on my friends! Prepare to receive your rightful punishment from the great god Thor, the defender of justice!"

Why was this happening? Jormungand frantically wondered. Surely this must be a terrible mistake. He had never, ever picked on anyone – except maybe Fenrir, when he was on a vengeful mood, which was rare enough.

"Thor! Stop!" shouted Loki just when Thor was about to swing his hammer down. Thor froze and looked at Loki, who had grabbed his shoulders and was trying to pull him back. "What in the nine worlds are you doing?!"

"Isn't that obvious, Loki? I'm saving you!"

"Saving me?" Loki gawked in disbelief. "Who says I need to be saved?"

"Oh, Loki, Loki..." Shaking his head, Thor put a sympathetic hand on Loki's shoulder. "No need to be ashamed. I saw you struggling in the air with this monster," he explained, pointing at Jormungand. "And you know me! I couldn't just stand by and watch anyone in distress – especially not my best buddy!"

"But―"

"And now I'm going to kill this beast to make sure it won't ever bother anyone else!"

"Thor!"

"What?"

Loki took a deep breath. "I wasn't being attacked. I was..." he trailed off, hesitating.

"You were...?" Thor prompted.

Meanwhile, Jormungand was trying to slither away, to no avail. All he did was wiggle helplessly in place. He felt so cold and weak, and so scared... Why couldn't his father just tell that horrible man to go away already?

"I was taking that snake to Asgard, to use it in a prank," explained Loki.

"A prank, eh?" Thor frowned. "Really, Loki, isn't this a little reckless, even for you? I mean, I could understand if you'd used an ordinary snake or something, but a snake monster? It could've seriously hurt someone!"

"It's not a monster!" Loki protested. "He wouldn't have hurt anyone."

"Not a monster?! Look how big it is! This is no ordinary snake! It's a monster of Jotunheim, a fiend. I've had much first-hand experience with the creatures of Jotunheim and I can tell you for sure that they are all evil, bloodthirsty demons."

"That's ridiculous, Thor," said Loki, with a long-suffering sigh. "I think I know more about the creatures of Jotunheim than you do. And –" he added pointedly, narrowing his eyes, when Thor began to protest "– I can tell you for sure that this one, at the very least, is very docile. And look what you've done! You've ruined my prank!" He swept past a miffed Thor and picked Jormungand up as carefully as possible without looking like it.

"Well, sorry..." muttered Thor. "I was just trying to help." He began to lift his hammer again. "At least let me put it out of its misery, won't you?"

"No! Just go already! I'll get rid of it myself."

"Hmm... I still think you were being attacked and are too embarrassed to admit it," said Thor under his breath.

Ignoring the god of thunder, Loki gathered Jormungand's coils in his arms and prepared to take flight again, this time heading back to Ironwood. Once in the air and hopefully out of Thor's reach, Jormungand allowed himself to relax a little. Through the haze of pain and fear, his mind was whirling, trying to make some sense of the exchange between the two gods.

He no longer felt so comfortable in his father's arms, and not only because it was physically painful. It had hurt a little when his father had called him an "it" and spoken of him as though he were a mere object, but Jormungand could see that it was because Loki didn't want Thor to know who and what Jormungand really was. What he couldn't figure out were Loki's reasons for all this secrecy. If only he had told Thor that they were related, Thor would have let go of his stupid prejudice.

He figured Loki must have a very good reason to keep his giant family a secret from the gods, and not to tell those reasons to his family. Even though Jormungand felt he had the right to know, since it involved him directly. But then, who was he to demand anything from the god Loki? He trusted his father's judgement. If and when Loki felt that Jormungand needed to know anything, he'd tell him.

As for Thor... What a lunatic! Granted, there were indeed many dangerous creatures in Jotunheim, some of them malicious, but that he actually believed all of them were like that was just mind-boggling. Maybe he had only met the wrong sort. Or, more likely, Thor was the kind of person who attacked first and asked questions later. At least that would explain why all the creatures of Jotunheim were hostile towards him. Even Jormungand, who considered himself to have a very cool temper, had never been so close to hating someone.

As if reading his thoughts, Loki said, "I'm sorry you had to go through all that. Thor isn't really a bad guy, you know. He's just... a thick-headed, overenthusiastic oaf." He landed in a darker area of the wood and carefully set Jormungand down to inspect his injury.

Jormungand squirmed and tried to have a look at himself. It wasn't an open wound, there was no blood, but it was quite sore and maybe a little swollen. Fortunately, he didn't think any of his bones were broken. Maybe it really wasn't as bad as it felt.

Loki, however, didn't seem so optimistic.

"Angrboda is going to kill me..." he grumbled.

Jormungand felt a little guilty. He didn't want to get his father into trouble, didn't want his parents to fight. He had been Loki's responsibility, yes, but this hadn't been Loki's fault at all. In fact, if it hadn't been for Loki, Jormungand might have been killed by that brute Thor. (He solemnly ignored the fact that it had been his father's idea to take him so dangerously far from home to scare the gods in the first place.)

"It's all right, Father," he tried to reassure him. "It's not as bad as it looks. I'm feeling better already!"

Loki shook his head. "That's not good enough, Jormungand. You're obviously injured, and Angrboda is your mother. It's her job to notice these things. Even if she were blind and half-comatose, she'd realise that something is wrong with you, I wager."

While Jormungand did think that his father was exaggerating a little, he couldn't deny that Angrboda would indeed realise that he was hurt sooner or later. He thought fast.

"Leave it to me, Father," he said. At Loki's suspicious look, he added, "Don't worry. By the time I'm done telling Mother what happened, she will be calling you a hero."

oOo

When they got back home, Angrboda soon figured something had happened to Jormungand, who then proceeded to tell her that he and his father had been caught by surprise in the wood by an enraged giant, whom Loki had slain easily after regaining his bearings. Angrboda was upset about Jormungand's condition, as it was to be expected, but she was very pleased that Loki had saved their son's life and got rid of the menacing giant in the end.

Hours later, at dusk, Jormungand was resting in his room, alone. He was beginning to feel hungry, which he thought was a good sign of his recovery. His mother had been coming to check up on him at regular intervals, so he just had to wait a little longer until she came in again.

The door opened and Jormungand raised his head from the ground to look at his mother. Instead, however, his gaze fell on his father, who held in his hand a dead rabbit. His expression unreadable, Loki closed the door behind him and threw the rabbit before Jormungand.

"Your mother told me you'd probably be hungry, even though you're hurt," he said. "She says you starve yourself when you're about to shed."

"Thank you, Father. I really am little a hungry." Jormungand flicked his tongue at the rabbit. It had been just killed and smelled delicious. Trying to move as little as possible, he held the rabbit's head in his jaws and began to swallow. He was so absorbed with his meal that he barely noticed how Loki was staring at him, his mouth hanging slightly open in amazement. Only when he was done swallowing and had realigned his jaws did he notice the attention. He looked away, feeling a little embarrassed.

"Well, you weren't lying when you said you could swallow a rabbit whole," said Loki, unfazed at being caught staring. His eyes lingered on the rabbit-sized bulge in Jormungand's body. "So... Interesting story you told today. I didn't think you'd lie to your own mother, Jormungand."

Jormungand was silent for a moment and met his gaze levelly. He didn't feel proud for lying to his mother, but he didn't feel guilty, either. Nothing good would have come from telling the truth, so he didn't see anything wrong with his white lie. Still, being acknowledged by his father, seeing his approving smile and the pride in his eyes – pride for _him_, for once – knowing that he had been able to do something for his father... It really warmed his cold-blooded heart. Jormungand would have done it all over again, even faced the hammer-happy Thor, if only he knew his father would always look at him like that afterwards.

"It was nothing, Father. Um..." He shifted, feeling shy. "Maybe we could go to Asgard again, some other time?" he asked hopefully. He felt bad that their plans had been dashed in such an abrupt manner, as if it had been his own fault somehow.

"Hm? Oh, that," said Loki, his tone dismissive. "Yes, maybe..." The next moment, he was at the door. "You should rest. I'll go keep your mother, ah, company." He was out of the room before Jormungand had a chance to say anything else.

However, from the next day on, Loki never did spend any time alone with Jormungand again.

oOo

Unable to be with his father for a whole day, Fenrir had sought out Hrygda and the other wolves. The reception he got was very different from usual. No longer did any of them look at him with resentment, annoyance, or jealousy. Every one of them, both young and old, wolf and giantess, looked at him with respect, some bordering on reverence, a few with fear mixed in.

"Fenrir!" Hrygda gasped when she saw him. "I was wondering if you'd ever come to see us again! Is your Father with you?" She looked around in trepidation.

"No," answered Fenrir, frowning in confusion. "What made you think I wouldn't come to see you again?"

"Well, you know..." She gave a nervous laugh. "After I attacked your father and all..."

"Aw, don't worry about that, Hrygda! Dad wasn't upset at all! Actually, he wants to meet you guys."

Hrygda paled and shuddered. "I'd better warn Mother and the others, then."

"Warn? He's not going to attack!" Fenrir snapped. "He just wants to talk to you. He's very friendly and easygoing, you know."

"Friendly and eas―Oh, Fenrir..." She sighed. "Do you really expect us to believe that?"

"What, you think I'm lying?"

"Fenrir, your father is the god of trickery and mischief! Just ask the elders! They know all about the feats of the gods, including Lord Loki."

"I'll do that," he growled.

Followed by Hrygda, Fenrir headed to the part of the cave where the elderly wolves and giantesses lived. Some wolves joined them on the way, and they all listened with the utmost attention as their elders obliged to Fenrir's request and relayed all the tales they knew about the so-called "evil" god Loki.

The tales were very similar to those Loki himself had told his family, only with certain differences. In some of them he was a hero, in others he acted for selfish reasons, and there were also instances when Loki just caused mischief or antagonised others for no apparent reason, simply because he could or thought it would be amusing. In some cases, he was even a little... evil.

However, all those tales had one thing in common, both in Loki's version and the wolves' version. Loki's intelligence, cunning, and sense of humour. If Hrygda and the wolves expected Fenrir to change his mind about his father after hearing their version of things, they would be very disappointed. If anything, they had only elevated his opinion of Loki. Fenrir half-suspected those stories were just rumours, but he sincerely hoped not. Truth be told, he rather liked this mischievous, slightly evil Loki. It was much better than being a sappy goodie two shoes, at any rate!

It was quite late in the night, or quite early in the morning, when the elders finished the last story. Fenrir would have to go home soon if he didn't want to worry his mother. However, there was one more thing that he needed to ask the elders, and for that he had to wait until Hrygda and the other young wolves were out of earshot.

Sensing that Fenrir had something to say, the elders patiently waited. Once they were alone, Fenrir told them about the young wolves' strange changes of behaviour towards him, wondering why they had resented him in the first place when he had done nothing wrong.

The elders were silent for a moment, until the eldest one, Grimnir, spoke.

"Well, Fenrir, it all comes down to Hrygda."

"Hrygda? What's she got to do with anything?" Fenrir asked.

"Well, she is Lady Herkja's daughter and heiress. When Lady Herkja dies, Hrygda will become our leader."

"Really? Well, that's interesting," said Fenrir, tilting his head. "But what does that have to do with me?"

"Be patient, young one. I was just getting to that." Grimnir made a pause, his tired, wise green eyes boring into Fenrir's. "The role of the leader is not only to rule the clan and ensure our protection. It is also her duty to bear our children."

Fenrir hummed in interest, though he still had no idea what all this had to with him and the wolves' mood swings. "So, you're all Lady Herkja's children?"

"Most of us, yes. The other troll-women can have children, but that is not so common. The strongest, bravest, cleverest wolves are to be solely the leader's potential mates, and she chooses one as her favourite. It is a great honour, so the wolves compete amongst themselves to prove their worth to the leader. It is instinctive; they can't help feeling hostile towards their rivals no more than they can help being attracted to the leader."

"So... they see me as a – um – a rival? That's so silly!" Fenrir wagged his tail in amusement. "I don't like Hrygda that way! If the others want to be her mates –" he made a face "– they can be my guests!"

"But you do feel something for her, don't you? Don't you enjoy her company more than the other troll-women's?"

"'Course I do, but so what? It's just a coincidence. I didn't even know she was supposed to be the next leader."

Grimnir and the other elders gave him knowing looks.

"But I don't want to be her mate!" he said, bristling. "That's just so weird and – and – well, icky!"

"Well, Fenrir, you are still young. Maybe you will change your mind," said Grimnir. "I'll be honest with you, though; we elders, including Lady Herkja, wished you would be Hrygda's favourite. You not only have all the qualities of a good mate, you are also the son of Lady Angrboda, a former leader of ours, and the evil god Loki. You are of noble blood; it would be the perfect match. Even the other young wolves, your supposed rivals, agree now that you are the best choice for Hrygda."

"Bah! Sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not interested in that kind of thing. Excuse me, now, I've got to go home." Feeling he might have sounded a little too rude, he bowed quickly to the elders before leaving the cave.

He just couldn't wait to rejoin his dear father and forget all about this weird talk about being Hrygda's mate.


	6. Eye of the Beholder

A Hel-centric chapter, at last. I'm not very pleased with it, though, and it was very difficult to write. This just hasn't been a very good month for me...

On another note, you wouldn't believe how happy your reviews have made me! Thank you, thank you very much for them!

* * *

– **CHAPTER 6 –**

_**Eye of the Beholder  
**_

"Mum! I'm going out!"

"All right, dear! Have fun!"

"Brother, can I come with you?"

"No."

"Please!"

"Are you deaf as well as dumb? I said no!"

"Why won't you play with me any more? We used to play together all the time when we were little..."

"You keep getting more and more annoying, that's why!"

Hel frowned, her eyes never leaving the yellowed pages of her book. Her two brothers were bickering again. What else was new? She just wished they would take it outside, as they were breaking her concentration.

"I won't annoy you, I promise!" Jormungand insisted.

Hel heard Fenrir sigh and calm down, which nowadays wasn't as unusual a course of action as it would have been a few years ago. Fenrir had always been a little hotheaded, but lately he had been making an effort to rein in his temper somewhat. Maybe it was a sign of his growing maturity, Hel allowed herself to hope.

"Look," said Fenrir in his most reasonable voice, "you gotta understand that I'm not a kid any more. I'm a big wolf now. I don't have the time _or_ the interest to play with you like a puppy."

"But –"

"Bye-bye, Brother!"

Fenrir was gone before Jormungand had the chance to protest again. Relieved, Hel welcomed the ensuing silence. Now she could read in peace once more...

"It's not fair!"

At last, Hel looked up from her book to glare at her whining brother, who was curling up on the floor to sulk.

"Why don't you help Mother?" she asked him.

"I already have. There's nothing else to do. No thanks to you or our brother, of course," he said the last sentence under his breath, but Hel was still able to catch it. Jormungand held the opinion that the three of them were supposed to assist their mother with the housework, and he often nagged at them about it. Having got used to hearing such remarks from him, Hel easily ignored this one as well. "She says she wants to rest now, so she can't keep me company."

With a heavy, long-suffering sigh, Hel went back to reading and proceeded to ignore him. Not a minute later, she heard the rasping of scales on the wooden floor coming closer and braced herself for the inevitable.

"Play with me, Sister?"

Hel buried her face in the book in exasperation. She just wanted to be left alone to read! Was that too much to ask?

The sound of approaching footsteps caught her attention and she looked up again to see her mother towering over both children.

"Hel, my dear, why don't you go outside for a change?" she suggested. "You spend too much time reading in the dark. That can't be good for you."

"But, Mother –"

"No buts. Go get some fresh air and play with your brother. Really, you're still a child, and yet you behave like a decrepit old woman, wasting away in this house. Act your age for once and have _fun_!" her mother admonished her, gently nudging Hel towards the door.

Hel began to protest again, but then noticed the way her mother fixed her eyes on the book in her hands and, fearing Angrboda would take it from her, Hel quickly acquiesced and left, almost running, embracing her book tightly against her chest in a protective manner.

The sunlight assaulted her eyes as soon as she stepped out. She groaned and squinted to see where she was going. The light was so very bright that it felt like it was burning her sensitive eyes. It also gave her a headache. Lovely.

As her sight gradually returned, she surveyed her surroundings with mild distaste. It was mid-autumn, so dead leaves were falling and floating around her in the chilly breeze. Everything was brown and grey, giving the landscape a rather melancholic feel. Hel didn't really see how this was supposed to be an improvement from the cosy warmth of her home.

Listless, she just followed her little brother as he happily made his way through the dry foliage. He seemed to be in high spirits today, though the reason for that was beyond Hel. Usually, at this time of the year, Jormungand would already begin to feel lethargic from the cold. Then again, the sun was still out, so it wasn't _that_ cold yet...

They both stopped at the small lake near their home. Jormungand took his time to admire it, seeming to appreciate the way the sun reflected on the mirror-like surface of the water, giving it a golden shine. Then, Jormungand turned to look at Hel.

"What are we going to do now, Sister?"

"_I_ am going to sit right here and read," said Hel, sitting under a tree with little leaves left and opening her book on the part where she had been interrupted. "_You_ are going to do whatever you want, as long as you leave me alone."

"Wouldn't you like to swim?" Jormungand persisted.

"No. It's too cold for that, anyway," she muttered.

"No, it isn't. I swam in the lake yesterday, and it was all right. If I can take that kind of temperature, you should have no problem at all."

"Whatever. I don't like swimming. I don't like getting wet."

"Fine, then, I'll go by myself," Jormungand sighed in resignation. "But if the cold does get to me and I drown, it'll be your fault."

Hel only scoffed. Silly Jormungand.

Time passed and Hel barely realised it, so engrossed was she in her reading. She only paused in it when her back began to hurt, after being in the same hunched position for so long. Setting her book aside for a moment, Hel stretched herself and idly looked at the lake, expecting to see Jormungand swimming up and down.

The water was still.

He must have dived for a moment. Hel looked around, bored, and wondered what time it was. She was beginning to feel a little hungry, so she guessed it was almost lunch time. She would wait for Jormungand to resurface and tell him that they were going home. She watched the lake, looking for any sign of movement.

The water remained still.

What in the nine worlds? Had Jormungand left the lake without her noticing? No, impossible. Frowning, Hel stood up and looked around again.

"Jormungand!" she shouted.

No answer. She stepped closer to the lake and leant forward to look into the water.

"Jormungand! Can you hear me? Get out of the water! It's time to go home!" Again, no answer or movement in the water. Hel felt an unpleasant twist in her stomach. "Jormungand?" she tried again, anxiousness seeping into her voice. Why wasn't he answering? She knew he couldn't have left the lake and gone away without letting her know, so he had to be in the lake still. Yet, he wasn't answering her calls, even though she was sure he would be able to hear her even from underwater. "Jormungand, is this some kind of joke? Well, cut it out! I'm not on the mood for it! Come on, I want to go home!"

She waited another moment and folded her arms impatiently.

"This is very childish," she complained. "You're acting just like Brother Fenrir. Really, this isn't funny! Just get out of the water, or I'll make you!"

Despite her annoyed words, she was actually beginning to get worried. For how long could he hold his breath underwater? Surely not _this _long?

She eyed the lake, noting it didn't look very deep. She had really wanted to avoid going in if she could help it. However, she couldn't stop the mental images of worst case scenarios from flashing in her mind. What if something _was_ horribly wrong with Jormungand?

Making a face, Hel stepped into the water and instantly shivered from the cold. The things she did because of her stupid brothers...

She was waist-deep in the water when she decided that she could no longer ignore her own discomfort or pretend she wasn't on the brink of panic. By now, she was shaking like a leaf, and not only due to the cold.

Oh, this was bad, this was very bad. Maybe she should go and ask help from Fenrir...

Almost imperceptibly, something wound around her right ankle and, before she knew it, tugged her under the water, her surprised yelp ending in a gurgle. No longer able to breathe or tell up from down, Hel could only flail helplessly as the thing, whatever it was, wound itself around her whole body, not tightly enough to hurt her, but enough to keep her from hitting it or trying to escape.

Fortunately, the thing didn't stay underwater for long and resurfaced before Hel ran out of air. The sunlight struck her poor eyes again and she closed them, concentrating on taking deep breaths while the thing dragged her along.

"Oh, wonderful," she growled when she opened her eyes again. "I've been caught by a sea serpent... in a lake."

Jormungand chuckled.

Hel gave him a sour look. "I suppose I should have seen this com―Ack!" she yelped again when he nipped at her shoulder and midsection, though she realised he was careful not to use his venomous fangs. "Stop that!" she squeaked, and then burst into laughter when he tickled her with his thin, forked tongue. "Oh, stop, stop!" she giggled, feeling ridiculous. She had never laughed this much or this loudly, and it was a little unnerving that she just couldn't control herself. She tried to slap her brother, but, quick and slippery as he was, he easily dodged her flailing hands. It also helped him that she could barely move when he was still coiled around her.

At last, Jormungand took mercy on his poor sister and let her go. They were close to the shore now, so Hel didn't go under the water again. She sat still for a moment, catching her breath, head lowered, and watched her reflection on the water. She no longer felt cold, but she still looked a sorry sight, what with her messy, dripping hair and soaked dress clinging unpleasantly to her body. Eyes narrowing, she slowly raised her head and looked at her younger brother from behind drenched locks of hair.

"You'll pay for this," she whispered. Then, with a primal roar, she leapt to her feet and charged at him. "I'll kill you, you idiot!" He was able to avoid her for a while, since he had an advantage over her in the water, until Hel stomped on his midriff and managed to grab his neck, cutting off his laughter. "I'll teach you not to prank me and scare me half to death!" she howled. His scales felt cold as ice under her fingers, which might explain why Jormungand was making such feeble attempts to break free from his sister's iron grip.

"Sis... ter... you're..." He made a choked noise. "Hurting... me..."

"Oy, oy! What are you doing?" someone barked.

Hel turned her head to see her older brother watching her with a slightly disturbed expression. Next to him stood that young giantess he was always hanging out with, her gaze merely curious.

"Teaching him a lesson," hissed Hel.

"Look, Hel," said Fenrir, approaching his struggling siblings, "you know I've nothing against beating some sense into that moron, but I think you're seriously hurting him." Almost as an afterthought, he added, "Mum wouldn't like that, now would she?"

Only then coming to her senses, Hel let go of her brother. She had never meant to hurt him, but maybe she _had _gone a little too far this time... And it took Fenrir's interference for her to realise it. Usually, it was the other way round. Since when was she so unthinkingly violent and Fenrir was the one with any sense? How could she have lost control over something so trivial? What was wrong with her?!

"I-I'm sorry, Jormungand..." she whispered, contrite, not meeting anyone's gaze.

"Don't worry about it, Sister!" said her younger brother in his most reassuring voice. "I'm all right, see? No harm done at all!" To prove there were no hard feelings, he curled his tail around her wrist – an affectionate gesture, the serpentine equivalent of holding hands with her, Hel figured. She gave him half-hearted smile in return.

"So, Brother, you and Lady Hrygda decided to join us, after all?" asked Jormungand as he wearily slithered out of the water and stretched himself on a nearby rock to sunbathe.

"Pff! Are you kidding me?" Fenrir scoffed. "It's just we heard Hel screaming and thought she might be in trouble. You kids can go back to..." he trailed off, as though he'd forgotten what he meant to say, and frowned. Jormungand also reared up his head, mildly alarmed. "Did you hear that?" asked Fenrir.

Hel didn't hear anything unusual, nor could she feel vibrations on the earth, but there was indeed something in the air. Almost like a shift of the wind, but not quite...

A sudden, strong rush of wind hit them and almost knocked Hel off her feet. The water of the lake rose in the air and descended on them like rain. Frightened and disoriented, Hel covered her head and ducked until all was quiet and still once more. Then, she cautiously looked around, blinking in confusion when nothing even remotely threatening was there to be seen.

"What in the nine worlds was that?!" blurted Fenrir.

Before anyone could venture a guess, they heard another, softer gust coming from the opposite direction. Hel and the others braced themselves. However, the sound became lower and lower until eventually all they heard was a galloping horse. Indeed, a minute later, Hel was able to make out the form of a dark stallion slowly and innocently making its way towards them.

There was something odd about it, but Hel couldn't quite put her finger on what. The beast was no more than a vaguely horse-shaped blur until it was standing a few feet from the group of giants. Hel squinted and leant forward. Were her eyes playing tricks on her, or did this horse have more legs than was considered normal for his kind?

"Fenrir! Is that you?" shouted the horse enthusiastically.

All gazes were on Fenrir and saw recognition flickering in his widening eyes.

"Sleipnir?" he sounded more incredulous than uncertain. The name rang distant bells in Hel's head.

"Wow, I almost didn't recognise you!" said the stallion. "The last time I saw you, you were just a li'l puppy! And look at you now! You're almost as big as me! Good Lord Odin, has it been that long?"

"Nah, I had a growth spurt," said Fenrir, wagging his tail. "So did you, apparently."

"Yep, I'm a full-fledged stallion now. That's why my master lets me go out on my own. Whenever I came to Jotunheim, I half-hoped to find you, but I had no idea where you lived. It was lucky that I was passing these parts today and happened to catch sight of you."

"So that was you? You're so fast we didn't even see you!"

"Sleipnir... Isn't that the horse our brother met in Valhalla?" hissed Jormungand to Hel.

"Oh!" she exclaimed as she, too, began to remember. "Yes, that's right! He's our half-brother!"

Fenrir, having caught their whispered conversation with his outstanding hearing, said, "Oh, yeah, I forgot to introduce you! Guys, this is Sleipnir, our half-brother. I've told you all about him. When I got lost in Asgard, he helped me find our old man's place."

"Hullo!" said Sleipnir.

"Sleipnir, this is our younger sister Hel. And that idiot over there is our little brother Jormungand."

"Hi," whispered Hel, with a small, uncertain wave.

"Er. It's a pleasure to meet you, Brother Sleipnir," said Jormungand in his usual polite manner.

"I have a snake brother? Ugh..." Sleipnir shuddered. "Er, I mean, nice to meet you all!"

"And last but not least is my best friend Hrygda!" said Fenrir, rubbing his head against the giantess' arm.

"Daughter of Herkja," she added and nodded at the stallion. "Greetings."

Sleipnir, like Hel, seemed to notice the way Hrygda was stroking Fenrir's neck and shoulders.

"Am I going to be an uncle, too?"

"What?!" said Fenrir and Hrygda in unison.

"Er, nothing..."

"For the last time!" barked Fenrir. "We are _not_ a couple! Can't a wolf and a giantess just be friends without people getting the wrong idea?"

Sleipnir made a muffled noise that was something between a cough and a chuckle.

"So, what were you all doing before I got here? I hope I didn't interrupt anything important."

"Oh, it was nothing," said Fenrir. "The kids were playing, and we were checking up on them to make sure they wouldn't kill each other."

Hel and Jormungand frowned at Fenrir. They didn't appreciate his superior, I'm-older-and-more-mature-than-you attitude. In their opinion, out of the three of them, Fenrir was by far the most immature one.

"So, do you have any news of the old man?" asked Fenrir, oblivious to his siblings' irritation.

Sleipnir gave him a blank stare for a moment. "The old man...? Oh, you mean Mother?" He gave the equine equivalent of a shrug. "I don't often see her – er, _him_." He lowered his voice to a conspirational whisper. "But rumour has it she, I mean, he is having an affair with Lady Freyja."

This was not exactly what Hel had been hoping to hear about her father, and she could see from Jormungand's uneasy shifting of coils that he was as flustered and embarrassed as she felt. Fenrir and Hrygda, on the other hand, had twin amused grins on their faces.

"You're joking!" chortled Fenrir.

"Well, it's no secret that Lady Freyja has a special interest in Mother, and you know what Mother is like..."

"Yeah, remember when he met the other giantesses in your clan, Hrygda?" said Fenrir, nudging her. "I do think he was enjoying being surrounded by so many ladies a little toomuch!"

"His reputation certainly precedes him for a reason," she replied.

"Um. Who's Lady Freyja?" asked Hel, not even sure she wanted to know; she was just desperate to change the subject.

"Hm? You've never heard of her?" said Sleipnir, taken aback. "She's the goddess of love, beauty, and fertility."

The last word elicited another round of chuckles from the older ones, but Hel's attention was rather on the two words before that one.

"The goddess of love and beauty?" she repeated to herself under her breath.

oOo

Hel had always wondered why, despite her best efforts, her father had never become as close to her as he was to Fenrir. Her gift for magic had caught Loki's attention, but that was as far as it had gone. He just didn't seem interested in getting to know her as a person or spending any more time with her than strictly necessary for two people sleeping under the same roof. As if her magic displays were nothing more than the evening entertainment for him.

She just couldn't figure out what was wrong with her.

Jormungand had also failed miserably to get in their father's good books. So, she figured that whatever was wrong with her also afflicted her little brother. According to Fenrir, the same could be said about her two half-brothers who lived in Asgard. Years ago, Fenrir had mentioned in passing that Loki didn't care much for them, either.

The first logical conclusion she drew was that Loki just didn't like children.

But then, she reflected, he had always liked Fenrir. What was so special about Fenrir, anyway? Surely this wasn't just a case of matching personalities. Loki was, to say the least, on excellent terms with Angrboda, even when they were just chatting or doing something inane like watching clouds, so Hel knew that he was perfectly able to appreciate a calm personality as well.

Over the years, in the rare occasions her father was present, Hel had been watching him and slowly realising something very important about him. His eyes always lingered on beautiful women, and the more beautiful they were, the friendlier he was with them. He, himself, was the most handsome man Hel had ever seen, just as Angrboda was the most beautiful woman she had ever seen. It seemed terribly vain, but Hel had to admit that if she had to choose between associating with a creepy-looking monster from the darkest depths of Ironwood and a handsome, suave outsider, she'd probably pick the latter.

Hel wanted to slap herself when she finally figured it out. It was so obvious, she should have drawn such a logical conclusion years ago. Or maybe she had always known the truth, deep down, but just couldn't bear to admit it to herself.

Simply put, she was repulsive. There was nothing wrong with half of her, but the other half was rotting... It was a grotesque sight, unpleasant to the touch, and it probably smelled, too. She was so used to her own body that she never really notice those things, but to someone who was accustomed to seeing great beauty in himself and in others...

"Sister," said a quiet, hissing voice next to her, pulling her out of her thoughts. "Are you all right?" her little brother asked in a concerned voice. "You look a little... upset."

Hel turned her dark gaze on Jormungand. The sight of him only illustrated her point. She put herself in Loki's shoes and understood that it was only to be expected that he wouldn't like them. She could only imagine the nasty surprise he must have got when he found out about them. If she were Loki and had a son who was a creepy, venomous snake and a literally rotting daughter, she wouldn't have been happy, either. At least Fenrir was cute in a fluffy way and could be seen as a pet of sorts...

"Sister Hel?" Jormungand tried again, oblivious to her loathing thoughts.

Ignoring him, Hel shifted her gaze to her older brother, who was chatting with Hrygda and Sleipnir. Hel and Fenrir had always been on good terms and didn't fight nearly as much as Fenrir and Jormungand. Yet, curiously enough, she had never been as close to Fenrir as Jormungand was, either. She had thought it was because they were both male, but, nowadays, Fenrir only ever hung out with Hrygda. Loki had also seemed to take a shine to her – and she wasn't even that pretty... But, of course, as plain-looking and simple-minded as she might be, Hrygda was still easier to look at than Hel or Jormungand.

At last, Hel was brought out of her dark reverie when Sleipnir approached. He didn't get too close, though; he kept throwing Jormungand odd, suspicious glances.

"Hey, little sister! It really was great to meet you, even if we didn't get to talk much. I guess you're just the quiet type, huh? That's okay, though; Vali and Nari, that is, my other two half-brothers in Asgard, they aren't very talkative, either, but I know they're nice people, and we get on well when we have the chance to talk, which doesn't happen too often, because we don't live in the same place, and they almost never come to Valhalla, and whenever I leave Valhalla, I'm with Master Odin, heading to some remote part of Asgard..."

Hel just stared at Sleipnir as he babbled away. If she wasn't much of a conversationalist, Sleipnir certainly more than made up for it with his chattering...

"Anyway," Sleipnir finally resumed his point, "I've got to go home now, so I wanted to say goodbye. Oh, but don't worry! Now that I know where you guys live, I can come visit you whenever I have the chance!"

"You're going to Asgard now?" Hel asked.

"Yep! To Valhalla! That's where I live. Nice place, very festive, especially after there's a war in Midgard... Of course, I'm never allowed to take part in their celebrations, but I can hear their cheery music and laughter so well, it's like I'm right there with them!"

Hel leapt to her feet, threw a look back at Fenrir and Hrygda to make sure they weren't watching her, and beckoned at Sleipnir to step aside for a more private word. Sleipnir, intrigued, fell silent and complied, while Jormungand politely made no move to follow them, even though he did look quite curious.

"Sleipnir, I have a favour to ask of you," she whispered to him.

"Sure, Sis! Anything!" he said, nuzzling the healthy side of her face and neck.

"Take me to the goddess Freyja."

He pulled back in surprise, his wide eyes boring into hers.

"The goddess Freyja? But... why?"

"Well, she's the goddess of beauty, isn't she?" Hel muttered sullenly. "Just look at me. Maybe she could help me."

"Huh?"

"Or are you saying," Hel continued, holding herself defensively, "that it's no use trying and I'm a hopeless case?"

"I don't understand what – Oh! Oh, you mean that thing on your face?" Sleipnir narrowed his eyes and leant forwards to take a closer look, which made Hel step back in turn. "I dunno, maybe it'd be better to have the goddess Eir look at that skin disease of yours, don't you think? She's a great healer, you know."

Clearly, Sleipnir wasn't the most tactful of creatures.

"It's not a disease," said Hel, managing to control her temper. "I was born this ugly."

"Huh... That's odd. Then again, I was born with eight legs, so who am I to talk?"

"Well, will you help me or not?" pressed Hel impatiently.

"Oh, sure, if you really want to see Lady Freyja. Actually, it's going to be nice having some company on the way there. Well, come on up, then!" Sleipnir lowered himself to the ground so that Hel could easily mount him. "Have you ever been to Asgard?"

"No."

"Good! I'll show you around, then, when we have time. You'll love it; it's much nicer than this dark, clustered Jotunheim."

"Um, e-excuse me!" someone else said. The two siblings looked down at Jormungand, the sight of whom made Sleipnir jump a couple of feet in the air. Jormungand, in turn, was startled by the stallion's reaction and coiled up nervously. "I couldn't help hearing what you just said... and noticing you're mounting Brother Sleipnir as if you intended on leaving with him right now."

"Yes," said Hel warily. "So what?"

"Are you serious, Sister? Are you really going to Asgard? _Now_?"

"Yes!" she hissed.

"But you can't! It could be very dangerous! Remember, our father doesn't want us there! He must have a good reason for that, don't you think?"

"Nonsense! Look at Fenrir; he had no trouble at all when he was there. And if you keep quiet, Father will never know I was there."

Even before Hel was done speaking, Jormungand was shaking his head. "I don't like this... I have a very bad feeling about it. Please, Sister, don't go! I beg of you!"

"I'm going, Jormungand, and nothing you do or say can stop me."

Hel watched him impassively, almost challengingly, as he regarded her with a deeply troubled look. After a moment of hesitation, he spoke again.

"Then... then, please let me come with you, Sister!" he said, his voice full of determination even as it trembled slightly. "I couldn't bear the thought that you might be in danger. Let me come with you so I can make sure you're all right and protect you if necessary."

"I don't need your protection. I can take care of myself," said Hel, not unkindly, as she sincerely appreciated her brother's concern. "But any help is welcome, so if that's what you plan to do, I'm not going to stop you."

"Er, I'm afraid that won't do," said Sleipnir, shifting nervously. "That is, unless he can keep up with me."

"You make a good point," said Hel before addressing Jormungand again, "You'd slow us down, so I think you should just stay here."

"Oh..." Jormungand advanced slowly in their direction. "Maybe if I coil myself around you, our brother could take the both of us?"

"Don't be silly, Jormungand; you're too long and too heavy," Hel pointed out, feeling Sleipnir shudder.

"Besides," said the stallion, "I would never let you come within six feet of me, let alone mount me!" He must have noticed the hurt in Jormungand's eyes, for he quickly added, in a kinder tone of voice, "Aww, I'm sorry, Little Brother! It's nothing personal! You do seem like a nice enough fellow, but I just can't help being terrified of snakes. It's in my nature, you know."

"I... I understand," said Jormungand quietly. Then, with renewed earnest, he addressed Hel again, "Sister, I must insist that you don't go to Asgard! Surely whatever you plan on doing there isn't that urgent?"

"But it is, Jormungand," she affirmed. "This may be the most important thing I'll have ever done in my entire life. But, of course, I wouldn't expect you to understand." She looked away from him. "Goodbye, my brother."

"Bye-bye!" said Sleipnir.

Another unexpected gust almost knocked Hel off her half-brother. He moved so suddenly and so quickly, it took her a while to get used to it. She latched onto Sleipnir's neck, fortunately not tight enough to hurt or even bother him, and held on for dear life. She could barely keep her eyes open against the wind that rushed past her face, but from what she could see, everything around her was moving so fast that it had become nothing but a flashing blur.

It was too bright for it to be Ironwood still. Amazing how they had gone so far in just a few seconds! Sleipnir truly was the fastest creature Hel had ever seen. And so very agile, too! If she didn't know better, she would have thought they were flying just above the ground. Hel certainly hadn't expected this much grace from someone who had so many extra legs.

oOo

This was bad, Jormungand thought. This was _very _bad. He couldn't even tell why he was so worried. Even when Fenrir had followed Loki to Asgard so many years ago, only a little helpless puppy at the time, Jormungand hadn't got this overwhelming feeling of impending doom. He might not have Fenrir's happy-go-lucky disposition, but neither had he ever been a pessimist. Yet, he felt more worried than ever. He knew – he just knew – that this was a terrible mistake.

When Hel left with Sleipnir, he went straight to his brother. Fenrir might be annoying and full of himself on occasion, but Jormungand knew he could always count on him in times of crisis. That was what elder siblings were for, after all.

"Brother, Brother!" he called out, slithering as quickly as possible over to where Fenrir was playfully fighting Hrygda.

"What?" came the annoyed reply.

Jormungand quickly filled him in on what was going in. "You've been there," he said at last. "You know the way. We should go after our sister and make sure no harm comes to her."

Fenrir nodded, his expression unusually grim. "I wonder why she wants to go there. She was very opposed to going years ago, when I suggested that we go after the old man and Thor."

"It doesn't matter _why_ she's going there!" Jormungand spluttered. "We can worry about that later, when she's back home and safe!"

"All right, then!" said Fenrir, his dark eyes burning with determination. "Let's go save our sister!"

oOo

Fortunately for Hel, the trip to Asgard wasn't a long one; it couldn't have taken longer than fifteen minutes. She was pleasantly surprised when Sleipnir announced they were standing right before Freyja's hall. For a good while, she could only stare at it in awe. The place was huge, unarguably the most stunning sight that had ever graced her eyes, and it literally _glittered_. It also made Hel feel very small. Suddenly, she wasn't so keen on going in there and meeting the goddess of beauty face-to-face. Honestly, what had she been thinking? How could she ever expect a goddess to help an ugly giant child such as Hel?

"Well?" said Sleipnir. "Are you just going to stand there? If you don't go and announce your presence, Lady Freyja will never know you're here."

"Um..." Hel wrung her hands and looked down, feeling shy. "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea, after all."

"Naw, no need to be nervous! Here, I'll give you a hand." He took a deep breath and shouted, much more loudly than a horse should be able to, "HELLO-O THERE! LADY FREYJA! THERE'S SOMEONE HERE TO SEE YOU!"

Hel flinched, both from the sheer volume of his voice and the nervousness she felt at the prospect of meeting the goddess.

They both waited for a while.

"Hmm. I guess nobody's home," said Sleipnir. "She must be visiting her brother, or Lord Odin, or Mother..."

"What do I do?"

"Well, I'm already a bit late, so I can't really help you much right now... Most I can do is take you to Valhalla. With any luck, she's visiting Lord Odin. Or you could wait here for a while."

Deciding the first idea was preferable, she mounted him again. This time, she was prepared for Sleipnir's sudden movement, though once again she didn't get to see much of the scenery. Before she knew it, they were entering Valhalla.

Hel blinked and let her gaze wander around the magnificent hall. She had heard a lot about it from Fenrir and a little from her father, but seeing it with her own eyes was a different matter altogether. It was much better than they had described. It wasn't as glittery as Freyja's hall, but it still was much more beautiful. It was imposing, majestic. Powerful magic pulsated in every inch of its towering walls. If Freyja's hall had made Hel feel small, Valhalla made her feel more insignificant than dust.

"Go through that door," Sleipnir indicated on his way to the stable. "Have a look around, see if you can find Lady Freyja. She's blonde and... will probably be holding a cat or two. If you can't find her, come to the stable and I'll help you when I can."

A little dazed from the sheer beauty and magic of Valhalla and very dismayed at being in the dwelling of the king of the gods, Hel mumbled a word of thanks and, with a little encouraging nudge from Sleipnir, hesitantly went in.

When she was past the door, it slammed shut from a sudden rush of wind. It was rather eerie given the circumstances. Ominous, even. As though it had sealed her fate somehow. Of course, it was probably just an impression caused by her fear, but Hel couldn't help recalling Jormungand's foreboding words.

She shook her head. Sleipnir himself had brought her here. He wouldn't have done so if he thought it was too dangerous. At the very least, he would have given her some fair warning. Besides, the people who lived here were her father's friends. They couldn't be that bad, right?


	7. The Three Monsters

**Author's note**: Phew! Long chapter is long. I'm glad I was able to post it today, because I'll be on hiatus in November to dedicate my writing time to my NaNoWriMo project.

Once again, many thanks to my wonderful reviewers! By the way, it's been brought to my attention that some people might be reluctant to review because they think they can't write good, deep reviews. Well, you don't have to worry about that, at least as far as I'm concerned. Even short reviews such as "I like it!" never fail to bring a delighted smile to my face. Just knowing that someone enjoyed my stories makes me really happy.

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– **CHAPTER 7 –**

_**The Three Monsters**_

Hel couldn't help feeling like a rat as she scurried through the colossal hallways of Valhalla, keeping to the shadows and close to the wall. Whenever she heard anyone approaching, she would disappear into a corner and wait until they were gone, her heartbeat sounding so loud in her ears that she was sure it would give her away. Fortunately, no one seemed to be aware of her presence at all.

This was turning out to be a fruitless search. So far, she had seen no blonde woman who looked exceptionally beautiful. The women who kept coming and going past Hel, judging by their modest clothing, were probably Lord Odin's servants. She could also smell a very faint, but delicious, scent of food, meaning the kitchen shouldn't be too far away. In other words, Hel was nowhere near where she was supposed to be; she was probably on the wrong floor altogether. Surely the goddess of love and beauty wouldn't be loitering around the servants' workplace!

She peeked into the next open chamber to confirm her suspicions. It looked like some sort of laundry. It was quite dark and Hel couldn't see very well at the best of the times, but with the dim light from the hallway, she was able to make out a few dirty, crumpled clothes lying on the floor only a few feet from the entrance. The apparent untidiness of this chamber was completely at odds with the rest of Valhalla – or what little of it Hel had seen so far.

To make up for the wasted time, Hel thought she might as well borrow something that could be of use to her somehow. One of the pieces had caught her attention; she picked it up and brought it to the light of the hallway to inspect it. It seemed to be a dark blue, rather ragged travelling cloak. It was a little oversized for Hel, but it would do nicely enough, so she put it on.

Actually, the fact that it was oversized might serve as an advantage; this way, the hood would better conceal her face, especially if she kept her head lowered. After all, Hel was fully aware of her grotesque appearance and didn't want to alarm the beautiful goddess with it. Tugging the hood as far over her head as possible, she left the laundry and proceeded to look for the way upstairs, where the gods should be.

She found it soon enough, and then almost wished she hadn't. As soon as her foot touched the floor up the stairs, there was a tremendous change in the atmosphere. For one thing, it was quite warm, in a good way, as opposed to the eerie cold of the level below; it was like the interior of a house warmed up by a fire on a chilly autumn night. It would have made Valhalla feel like a very cosy place, if it weren't for the sheer pressure of magic coming from everywhere, ten times stronger than outside and downstairs, or the prickling feeling of being scrutinised.

She froze and tried to calm down her breathing, her heart hammering in her chest all of a sudden, and squinted her eyes to see what was ahead of her in this new hallway. Unlike the hallways below, this one was brightly lit with torches and light runes, so if there was anyone here, Hel should be able to see them, even if only as a mildly blurry figure. She saw nothing, however, nor did she feel any presence nearby. She couldn't decide whether she should be relieved or unsettled.

Now that there were no shadows for her to hide in, all that was left to do was brave into the hallway and hope she would soon find the goddess Freyja. Feeling as exposed and vulnerable as though she were walking in Ironwood in the nude, Hel tugged at her hood again and kept her head lowered, though also a sharp eye on her surroundings, her steps brisk and silent.

It wasn't long before she heard voices echoing in the hallway. One voice was exceedingly loud and high-pitched and sounded a little upset. The other was a male voice, much softer and calmer, though it carried a hint of rigid authority. The couple seemed to be having a bit of an argument. Feeling it would be best to stay out of their way, Hel plunged into the hallway to her left and got ready to flatten herself against the wall if they came much closer.

As the voices got louder, Hel held her breath in tense anticipation. Could these two be the actual gods? More to the point, could they be Lord Odin and Lady Freyja themselves? Hel had no idea if any other gods dwelt in this palace. The prospect of meeting the goddess Freyja had been daunting enough, but meeting the supreme king of the gods face-to-face... Hel wasn't ready for this at all. What if they found her here? Would they get mad at the intruder? Would they summon her father? Would they throw at her a curse even worse than the one that already afflicted her, or would they lock her up in a cold, filthy dungeon with nothing but mouldy bread crust and rancid water to eat and drink, or—

A sudden, vicious hiss behind her made Hel jump in fright and she had to choke down a yelp. Whirling around, she saw a very large, grey cat glaring at her with narrowed eyes, its ears flattened back against its head and its mouth hanging open in a threatening way. Hel stepped back, unnerved by how close it was to her feet. She had been so focused on the two approaching gods that she hadn't even noticed the cat's presence at all.

The cat looked up and suddenly relaxed, its features softening, though it still kept a trained eye on Hel.

"Well, well, well, what have we here?" said a voice, deep and smooth. Hel froze. "It seems your cat has found a little mouse."

Steeling herself, Hel slowly turned around, taking care not to raise her head too much so as to keep the hood in place. Two very tall figures stood before her, one dressed in splendorous white and golden robes and the other in a glittering lilac dress. Hel dared raise her head a little more for a moment in order to catch a glimpse of their faces. She could see that the robed man had very long, white hair that went all the way down to his feet, which Hel found quite unusual, but it was the woman next to him who held Hel's attention. Hel didn't allow her gaze to linger on her, but she could see that this woman was not only blonde, but also the most beautiful woman Hel had ever seen – more so than Hel's mother, even. Without a doubt, this was the goddess Freyja.

"Is this a servant?" the woman asked. "Lord Odin, do you have children working for you, now?"

"Not in Valhalla," said the man.

How surreal... It finally dawned on Hel that she really was in the presence of two gods, one of them none other than the Allfather himself, and that she was now supposed to justify her intrusion.

Taking a deep breath to calm down and think, Hel carefully knelt down, murmuring a reverent "My Lord". Neither of her parents had ever seen it fit to teach her the proper etiquette when in the presence of a god, let along a king god, but she was sure this course of action was close enough. As an afterthought, she added, "My Lady," and then bowed deeply. This wasn't entirely out of respect; it gave her a good excuse to hide her face, at least for the moment. "I am not a servant. I came from far away, from Jotunheim, to beg for your help."

"A giant?" Hel could hear the sneer in the goddess' voice. This was no surprise – both her parents had told her that giants were generally scorned and despised by the gods – but it still stung a little. "Your kind is not welcome here, little girl," Freyja went on. "How dare you set foot in Valhalla? How did you even make it past the gate to Asgard? Heimdall must be losing his touch..."

"Or maybe we giants are smarter than you give us credit for," retorted Hel. Then, she remembered who she was talking to and berated herself for her impudence. She would get no sympathy from the gods by being cheeky.

"Now, now, my dear," said Odin to his fuming companion. "No need to get yourself worked up about it. For my part, I must say I am impressed. For a little girl, giant or not, to come all the way from Jotunheim and infiltrate Valhalla, she must be very brave, clever, and resilient – not to mention desperate. It is only fair that we should at least listen to her plight."

Freyja huffed, but dared not contradict her sovereign.

"Well, little girl?" Odin prompted, his voice gentle.

"My Lord," began Hel, slowly, as she deliberated her words, "since I was born, I have been victim of a curse. A... deforming curse."

"I see," said Odin patiently. "I assume that is why you are hiding under that cloak?"

"Yes, my Lord," said Hel.

A brief pause, and then she slowly brought her right hand up to the brim of the hood and pulled it back, her face an impassive mask. As expected, the goddess gasped and covered her mouth, an expression of shock and disgust marring her otherwise fair features. Odin, on the other hand, only narrowed his eyes slightly, as if mildly intrigued.

Hel focused her gaze on him, both because his reaction was unusual and less hurtful and because she had yet to take a good look at him. He wasn't at all what she had expected. One would have thought that the King of the Gods and god of war would look and act more like a warrior, be brawny and rude. She was, therefore, surprised to see that he was a very slender man, almost effeminately so, with an intellectual air and soft features. Despite his white hair, he looked like a very young man, barely an adult. All in all, he looked more like a young sorcerer than a battle-worn warrior.

While watching Odin, Hel caught a glimpse of Freyja touching her nose as if trying to cover it in a discreet way, looking slightly sick.

"As you can see," whispered Hel, averting her gaze in shame, "half of my body is rotting away because of this curse."

"Who threw this curse at you?" Odin asked.

"I don't know. Nobody, I think. I was just born this way." Hel met his gaze once more. "Please, my Lord, my Lady, I beg of you! If there is anything you can do to help me..."

"I'm sorry," said Freyja, not looking sorry at all. "Even if we wanted to help you, and we don't, there's nothing we can do. If no one threw a curse at you, there isn't a counter-curse. This is probably just a birth defect." She turned her back on Hel and began to walk away. Meanwhile, Odin was staring unseeingly at the wall, apparently bored out of his mind.

"Well, you heard her," he told Hel. "You had better leave before I'm forced to have you kicked out."

Hel felt a surge of anger at the gods' callousness. Throwing all caution and respectful manners out of the proverbial window, she hissed, "You're just saying that because you don't care for giants like me! If this is not a curse, it should be even easier for you to take care of it! You, Lady Freyja, are the goddess of beauty – you can bring beauty to _anyone_! And you, Lord Odin, you're supposed to be the most powerful being in all of the nine worlds! I don't believe for a second that you are incapable of doing something as simple as this!"

Freyja paused for a moment and looked back, with a sickly sweet smile, just to say, "Well, I did just say that we don't want to help you. Even if there is a way to help you, we are not willing to go through all that trouble just for a rude little giant."

"All right, I get it, you hate giants!" said Hel, stepping forwards. "But if you won't do it for me, at least do it for your beloved Loki!"

That made both Freyja and Odin stop short and look back at her.

"What does any of this have to do with Loki?" asked Freyja warily.

Hel hesitated. She hadn't really been thinking straight when she'd dragged her father into this, and even now she wasn't sure it was such a wise idea. For some reason, Loki had always kept his giant family a secret from the other gods; Hel could only assume he had a good reason for it. But, as Odin had correctly guessed, Hel was desperate, and risky though it might be, it was Hel's only hope. If this didn't change Freyja's mind, nothing would.

"I am Loki's daughter," said Hel boldly, though she was quivering inside. "By doing me this favour, you'll be also doing him a favour. He will be yours, then, no doubt."

To her surprise, Freyja burst into laughter.

"You're bluffing," she said. "Little girl, do you have any idea how many children, in all inhabited worlds, claim to be Loki's children every day?"

"Indeed," remarked Odin, his amusement betrayed only by a small curl of lips. "Of course, knowing our lascivious friend Loki, at least _some_ of them must be speaking the truth."

"Maybe," said Freyja, though her tone and expression were doubtful. "So, what makes you think you are one of them, little girl?"

Before Hel could even think of a reply, Odin intervened.

"That's enough, Freyja," he said, his tone authoritative, but not unkind. He then addressed Hel, "You must excuse her. You caught her at a very bad time, I'm afraid. That aside, I should refrain from reminding her of Loki's escapades with other women if I were you, as it only aggravates her further."

At a loss for words, Hel only tilted her head as she regarded the Allfather. She had know, of course, that he was her father's friend and blood brother, so he couldn't have been that bad a person in the first place, but she hadn't really expected him to be this polite and gracious. Charmed, Hel felt drawn to him. He really was like a father, even to a misshapen giant such as Hel – in fact, he acted more like a father to her than Loki himself ever had.

"My dear Freyja," Odin continued, "I think you are under a lot of stress. Why don't go out and get some fresh air? We'll talk later."

"Yes, Lord Odin," said Freyja stiffly before bowing and taking her leave. Her cat, which had remained quiet and alert by Hel's side all this time, threw the giantess one last wary look and hurried after its master.

Just then, Hel's stomach growled. Not very loudly, but Odin still heard it, which mortified Hel to no end. Feeling her whole face burn, Hel lowered her head in shame once more. Unlike the curse, she felt this was entirely her fault. She had been about to go home to lunch, but then got sidetracked by Sleipnir's apparition. Granted, she'd eaten some berries she'd picked in the vicinity while Fenrir and Sleipnir talked, but obviously that hadn't been enough. She should have sneaked into the kitchen in Valhalla and grabbed something to eat before coming upstairs.

"You poor thing, you must be famished," said Odin. "And exhausted, too. I can only imagine how trying it must have been to you, travelling all the way from Jotunheim, that horrible, dangerous place. As remarkable a child as you may be, you are still a child, after all. Come, come, I'll give you something to eat."

oOo

It had been many years since Fenrir had followed his father's trail to Asgard, but luckily he still remembered the way well enough to get by without much trouble. When it seemed like he was getting a little lost, he would concentrate on picking up Sleipnir's faint scent. This frustrated him quite a bit, because it was only delaying them; if only he could remember the way a little better, he'd probably have arrived in Asgard hours earlier.

On the other hand, these delays allowed Hrygda and Jormungand to catch up with him. They were both doing their best, though neither were built for long, speedy trips. Hrygda didn't have that much trouble keeping up at first, but she was getting tired. Fenrir had offered to carry her, but she had adamantly refused. She was too proud and stubborn to accept being carried around. As for Jormungand, Fenrir had to admit – to himself, at least – that he was slithering impressively fast, considering his size and weight, but he was still much slower than Fenrir would have liked.

Whenever those two got left behind, Fenrir would take a break and wait for Hrygda, but not for Jormungand. They just couldn't afford to wait so long, and Fenrir trusted that his little brother would be able to follow his and Hrygda's trail easily – his sense of smell was, after all, as good as Fenrir's, if not even better.

At last, the unforgettable sight of the impressive walls and gate that protected Asgard came into view in the far distance. Fenrir halted abruptly, which made Hrygda nearly crash into him, and regarded it for a moment as recollections from the last time he had been here, only a naïve little puppy then, flooded in. It felt like a lifetime ago, and at the same time, like it had just been yesterday – the gate and the walls were exactly the same, that grumpy gatekeeper was still there, in the exact same position as before, and even the landscape appeared to have been unaffected by time.

"Is that it, Fenrir?" whispered Hrygda, her eyes glimmering in wonder at the magnificent gates. "Are we in Asgard?"

"We will be, once we go through that gate," he replied gruffly, his eyes trained on the gatekeeper whose name now escaped him. Hrygda, on the other hand, was too excited about going to Asgard to worry about the man guarding the gate.

"Never in my life I imagined I'd actually set foot in the divine land..." she sighed. "Not even in my dreams. In fact... Fenrir, pinch me!" she said, holding out her arm in front of him. Fenrir just looked at her oddly.

"Hrygda, snap out of it! We're on an important mission here, remember? We've got to save my little sister!"

"Oh, right!" she said, stomping on her excitement and awe, her face assuming a serious, determined expression. "So, what's the plan?"

"Well, first of all, we gotta find a way to get past the gatekeeper."

"How did you do it the last time?"

"I was lucky," he admitted. "Remember, the thing with with Freyja and her cats...?"

"Oh, yes, yes," she said, waving her hand dismissively. She had heard this story millions of times already. "Well, we can't just stand here and wait for another god to come and conveniently distract the watchman. I think it's pretty obvious that there's only one thing to do now."

"And what is it?" asked Fenrir, wary.

"I'll provide a distraction myself!" she said, raising her voice for the first time during this exchange.

"Uh-huh. And how exactly do you plan to do that?"

"It's very simple." Judging by her tone of voice, one would think she had been asked how to blink. "I'll charge, and while he's too busy trying to stop me from pummelling him into the ground, you and your brother break down the gate or – or climb up the wall or something! I'll catch up with you later." She gave Fenrir a tight, warm hug, a half-lick half-kiss on the forehead, and then sprinted towards the gatekeeper, howling an ear-piercing battle cry.

"No, wait, wait!" Fenrir tried to protest, but it was too late.

"What is she doing?" wondered Jormungand, who had just caught up. Fenrir only groaned.

Before the gatekeeper even knew what hit him, he was on the ground, with a bloody nose and staring at stars that only he could see. To his credit, he recovered quickly and wasted no time in fighting back, not seeming to care that his opponent was a young woman in a long dress – not the most appropriate attire for a battle, incidentally, but Hrygda would never let such a small detail hinder her.

Although he couldn't help feeling a little concerned about Hrygda, Fenrir believed she was strong and smart enough to take care of herself and hold her own at least for a good while.

"Let's go!" he barked to his brother and they hurried to the gate.

"What in the nine worlds?!" yelled the gatekeeper when the pair approached, no doubt shocked by their unusual, impressive size. However, since he was too busy dealing with Hrygda, and maybe also a little too intimidated by the two beasts, he didn't have the chance to try to stop them from entering Asgard.

"Brother, give me a boost!" ordered Fenrir.

After assisting his brother, Jormungand easily slithered up and over the gate. This was hardly an obstacle for him, since he had grown so large. Perhaps for the first time in his life, Jormungand saw an advantage in his size.

Fenrir looked back through the gate, seeing that Hrygda was still engaged in battle with the hapless gatekeeper. It didn't look like they were going to stop any time soon. He hesitated for a moment, still reluctant to leave her behind, but then decided that was for the best. Hrygda would be all right, he reassured himself. As soon as she was done pounding the living daylights out of the gatekeeper, she would hurry into Asgard and join the two brothers. Right now, it was someone else he should be worrying about.

Resolutely turning away from the two fighters, Fenrir rested his gaze on Jormungand, who was flicking his tongue in the air with a look of concentration on his reptilian face.

"This way, Brother!" he announced at length and quickly slithered away.

Fenrir hurried up to take the lead again. Memories resurfaced while he looked around, noting that Asgard hadn't changed at all. Everything, even the trees and flowers, appeared to be exactly the same way as when he had last seen them. Nothing had grown, nothing had died. All was statically perfect. The only difference, as far as Fenrir could see, was the position of the sun, which had taken haste at some point during the three giants' journey and floated westwards, where it was now lazily setting, looking tired but satisfied.

As tired as Fenrir and Jormungand also felt, they couldn't afford to take a rest now. The proud wolf pushed the weakness aside and forced himself to keep going, pausing only to kick his little brother into motion when the latter began to waver and lag behind. Fenrir knew that all this fast travelling had been hard on him, but they had no time to waste. Jormungand claimed that he understood this and was trying his best, but Fenrir still wished his brother was a little tougher. Oh, he was very strong physically, stronger than even Fenrir, no doubt about it, but he had as much willpower and resilience to keep it together in times of crisis as a snowball on an open fire.

Fortunately, it shouldn't be long before they found the gods. If Fenrir remembered correctly – and he liked to believe he had an excellent memory – Valhalla was just a few minutes from the gate. Already could he see its towering walls and the distant roofs of the other gods' halls, all glowing golden in the light of the sunset. Even from this far, it was a sight to behold.

"So this is Asgard..." breathed Jormungand. "It looks very... bright, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, isn't it great? I wish we lived here," said Fenrir, a wistful sigh punctuating his words.

"I don't," said his brother in a flat tone, much to the wolf's surprise.

"What? You don't? Why not? I thought you liked brightness..."

"The warm brightness of the sun, yes. But it's different here. This is such a cold and exposing kind of brightness. I don't like it. I feel so uncomfortable..."

Fenrir rolled his eyes and put it down to his brother being his usual fussy self. It wasn't cold at all in Asgard. Quite the opposite, in fact, it was almost a little too warm. The temperature was perfect, even for the cold-blooded. Stupid Jormungand, always finding a fault in everything Fenrir liked... If the place was good enough for all the gods, then it should damn well be more than good enough for him, too.

"Listen, Brother..." whispered Jormungand as they neared the gods' halls. "Don't you think that maybe we should wait until dark before getting any closer? I mean, won't we just attract attention if we show up right now? Last time you were here, you were just a puppy and no one would have reason to give you a second thought, but there's no way they're going to ignore us as we are now..."

Fenrir just stared at him, unable to believe what he was hearing.

"Oh, will you shut up already?" he then snapped. "What the hell is wrong with you? I've told you a million times that we can't waste any time! Our reckless sister could be in danger _right now_, and you want to wait until dark? So what if we attract attention? Let people stare! I don't care what they think!" Scoffing, Fenrir purposefully quickened his pace, teeth bared in annoyance.

"You're being as reckless as our sister!" retorted Jormungand, slithering faster in order to keep up. "What if they don't just stare? What if..." he trailed off, seemingly too anxious to continue.

"I don't see why they would do that," said Fenrir. Then, with a smirk, he added, "But don't worry, Brother; I'll protect you. If they try anything funny, I'll bite their heads off – literally."

Jormungand remained silent – whether reassured by Fenrir's words or still lost in distressing thoughts, Fenrir couldn't tell, nor did he care.

A couple of minutes later, Jormungand spoke up again. "I think we're on the wrong track," he said.

Fenrir opened his mouth to snap at him, but suddenly realised he could no longer smell Sleipnir's faint scent.

"This is all your fault, you know!" he said. "If you weren't distracting us both with your inane chattering, we'd still be on the right track!"

"They were going to Lady Freyja's place, not Valhalla," Jormungand pointed out, ignoring the accusation.

"And who knows where that is?" growled Fenrir, his patience running out fast.

"Should we go back to try to find their trail again?"

"Nah, too much trouble. Let's just have a look around. It shouldn't be that hard to find them. I mean, how far off can Freyja's hall be? All the others seem to live near Valhalla."

Within a few more minutes they were close enough to see some residents of Asgard walking about busily. They seemed to be preparing some kind of party outside. Fenrir scanned the crowd for his father, but found instead that nice lady who had taken him in when he'd first come to Asgard, her twin children next to her.

"Sigyn!" exclaimed Fenrir in delight, wagging his tail. He _had_ missed her. They had only been together for a day or so, but during that short period of time, she had acted like a second mother to him. He wondered if she still remembered him after all these years, and if she would recognise him.

Well, only one way to find out!

"Wh-what are you doing?!" hissed Jormungand in alarm when Fenrir ran off in the gods' direction. "Brother! Come back!"

Ignoring his little brother's pleas, Fenrir happily barked to get Sigyn's attention.

In retrospect, maybe that hadn't really been a very bright move on his part. Fenrir began to realise this when all the gods froze and dropped what they were doing to look at him as if they were all on the brink of heart attacks. Most of the women and children shrieked, including Sigyn, while the men shouted at each other to get their weapons.

"A giant monster!" "A wolf demon!" they were all shouting, some pointing at him, others running around in blind panic.

Fenrir stopped and watched the commotion, more baffled than anything else. These people acted as if they had never seen a wolf before... Really, Fenrir wasn't _that_ big and scary. Or was he? Either way, they were supposed to be gods, powerful and brave, an example to be followed everywhere. Yet, here they were, frightened and helpless at the mere sight of a slightly oversized wolf. How pathetic.

Another ear-piercing scream. "There's another one! Over there!" A pale, slender finger pointed at Jormungand, who had been trying to inconspicuously slither away to safety. "A giant serpent monster!"

"Be quiet, you fools!" barked Fenrir. He was about to say more when he caught sight of two sturdy men in full battle regalia, armed to the teeth, looking to all the world as if they were going to fight an entire army all by themselves.

"Tyr, you get the wolf demon! I'll get the serpent! Thistime I'll finish it!" shouted one of the duo, whom Fenrir recognised as Thor. Before Fenrir could make any sense of those words, Thor's companion, Tyr, was already swinging his sword at him, nearly cutting his head off. Having evaded the sudden attack, Fenrir was immediately on guard, growling at his opponent. Behind him, he heard Jormungand scream in terror.

"Brother! Help!"

"I'm a little busy here!" retorted Fenrir while he dodged a series of new attacks from Tyr. He snapped his jaws at the man, who quickly moved out of the way and counter-attacked with practiced ease. "Fight your own battles for once, damn it!"

Tyr looked a little surprised to hear the two beasts speak, but recovered quickly and focused on the fight. Thor, meanwhile, was seemingly unaware of his surroundings, too busy delivering some long-winded speech about being the friend of justice and slayer of foul demons and monsters.

This Tyr person was an excellent warrior, and normally Fenrir would have almost enjoyed the challenge, but at the moment he was rather worried about his sister (and maybe a little tiny bit about his little brother, as well). He was also wondering where his father was and what he would make of this whole mess if and when he found out about it, and then he thought of Hrygda, who should be coming to join them any minute now.

Since Fenrir's heart wasn't into the fight, Tyr was rapidly getting the upper hand. Emboldened by the two fighting gods' success, the other gods, even some of the women, began to get weapons and aid their compatriots.

Oh, great, now they were outnumbered. Fenrir honestly hadn't expected things to get so out of hand. His eyes darted back and forth in search of his brother, looking and hoping for some support, but the snake was nowhere to be seen. No help from there, then. Fenrir was left completely to his own devices.

Taking advantage of Fenrir's momentary distraction, Tyr lashed out, opening a cut on the wolf's flank. Fenrir yelped at the flash of searing pain and drew back. As far as he could see, there was only one thing for him to do now.

"This is not over!" he shouted and sprinted off, leaping over the less harmful-looking gods. "I will be back tomorrow, just you wait!"

He wasn't running away, he told himself. He was just... stepping back momentarily to reflect on the situation and devise a new strategy.

oOo

Jormungand had known from the beginning that something horrible like this would happen. Unfortunately, though, he'd had no choice but to resign to fate, for his astray sister's sake.

Then again, while the trip to Asgard couldn't have been avoided, he still blamed his current predicament solely on Fenrir. Even now, Jormungand just could not fathom what in the nine worlds had possessed his brother to blow their cover and run headlong right into the gods' midst. If it weren't for Fenrir's rash actions, Thor wouldn't be on Jormungand's tail right now.

Probably.

Just the sound of that awful, roaring voice had been enough to freeze Jormungand's blood. No, no, not him again, he'd frantically thought. He was completely helpless against this hammer-wielding maniac. Thor's attacks were heavy-handed and quick as lightning, leaving Jormungand too disoriented to even attempt to defend himself. All he could do was crawl away in blind desperation, longing for some cover, where he could at least regain his bearings, even if for just a minute.

"Are you running away?" boomed Thor. "Don't think you can get away that easily! I'm not done with you yet! You hear me? Come back here and take your punishment, you cowardly, slimy monster!" Jormungand saw stars and the world spinning dizzily before his eyes when Thor's hammer hit him again and threw him up in the air.

This went on and on for hours, or so it felt like to Jormungand. Thor would strike him, then taunt and mock him, call him names, then beat him up some more. His energy draining, Jormungand weakly curled up into a protective ball, burying his head under his coils, with a soft, anguished hiss. Once again he wondered, why was this happening to him? Why did Thor always attack him on sight? The thunder god had said it was his punishment, but... Jormungand hadn't done anything wrong! He hadn't! At least, not anything that would warrant such harsh punishment. He'd never even done anything to Thor or any other god. Could it be that Thor just took pleasure in tormenting those weaker than him? Was the famous, admired god really nothing but a cruel bully?

He became suddenly aware of lying in some sort of liquid. At first, he feared it was a pool of his own blood, but upon taking a quick glance around himself, he saw it was nothing so dramatic, only the shore of a lake. Instinctively, he crawled further into the water, until he was at the very bottom.

Unlike the lake near his home, this one had very warm, soothing water. It was so peaceful and relaxing, in fact, that Jormungand would have fallen asleep right there and then, if not for the blurry sight of Thor coming to stand at the shore, his sharp, burning eyes searching the water for any sign of his victim. Jormungand held still, literally not moving a muscle, not daring to even flick out his tongue, and prayed that Thor wouldn't go as far as dive into the lake to come after him.

To his dismay, Thor looked like he was about to do just that, but then, miraculously, another man – Jormungand couldn't see him very well, but he seemed to be the gatekeeper – approached Thor in a hurry. They exchanged a few words, then left.

Jormungand dared not move, though. He would remain right where he was until he ran out of air. Just to be on the safe side.

oOo

When Odin had said he would give Hel something to eat, she had thought he meant a small, modest meal. The kind of meal she imagined a servant would have. It was a great surprise, then, to find that he had ordered what looked like a banquet just for her. Hel had never seen so much food on just one table before, especially not such appetising food. The mere sight of it made her mouth water, and it had a heavenly smell. After just her first mouthful, she was almost convinced this had to be all a dream. It was just too good and surreal to be true.

Despite feeling ravenous, she forced herself to eat slowly and reservedly. This wasn't her home, where her own mother and elder brother ate like pigs and her little brother could eat without worrying about table manners or chewing his food at all. This was Valhalla, and she was in the presence of the supreme god, the Allfather. She had to show a minimum of decency.

Odin just sat and watched her eat, a hint of a smile on his lips.

"Please, make no ceremony," he told her after some minutes. "Don't mind me, and feel at home."

Without a word, she began to eat a little faster and less quaintly, but she still restrained herself. After a while, they began to talk.

They talked about many things, most of them irrelevant, but still quite interesting. Odin did most of the talk, of course, especially in the beginning. He asked her about life in Jotunheim, what she did for fun, if she had many friends, and after a while, she asked him the same questions. To their pleasant surprise, they seemed to have much in common. For instance, Odin's greatest passions were also magic and reading, and he often got annoyed at his family, though he naturally still loved them all. Hel had a great talking to him. Instead of the gruff, strict old god that she had always vaguely imagined him to be, Odin was very witty and sometimes kind of goofy, too. One couldn't keep a straight face for long when talking to him.

By the end of dinner, when Hel was quite satisfied and relaxed, Odin broached the subject of her curse again, asking her if she was sure she had been born that way.

"My mother says so," she replied, with a shrug. "And she would never lie to me."

"Oh, I didn't mean to imply that," said Odin. "I just find it very curious that you were born with such a curse for no apparent reason. Are you sure your mother wasn't cursed before you were born?"

"Mother says she's sure of that. She's a very powerful witch, you see. The most powerful in all of Ironwood! Even if she doesn't look like it. She'd have noticed if someone had thrown a curse at her even in her sleep."

"Interesting," he murmured, narrowing his eyes as he scrutinised her. "It doesn't make much sense, though. Maybe some other god threw the curse? Very unlikely, but I'll ask around anyway. Hmm. You know, Hel, I do believe that's not a curse at all, but your true self. This is how you are supposed to look like. You were... _destined_ to be this way."

"Why? Why would I be destined to be this way? What's the use?"

"That you will find out when the time comes, won't you?" he said, giving her a meaningful look. "The point is, you shouldn't try to change who you are. No one should."

Hel lowered her head, twirling her finger in her hair. "But I don't like to be this way," she whispered, eyes stinging. "Who could possibly like someone as ugly as me? Not even my own father..." She sniffled, feeling tears trickling down her cheeks. Part of her was mortified that she had begun to cry in front of the Allfather, but she just couldn't stop. Sobs tore from her chest in harsh gasps, and she covered her eyes, wishing she could disappear from the world just as easily as it now disappeared from her sight. Inwardly, she cursed destiny and whoever controlled it.

"There, there, don't cry, my dear," said Odin comfortingly, brushing her hair with his long, slender fingers. "I didn't mean to upset you. I'm sorry. Would it make you feel better to take a look at my library?"

She looked up in surprise, eyes wide. Enter the Allfather's library?

"I'd love that!"

oOo

Lying inside a small cave a good way away from Valhalla as well as any other god's hall, Fenrir was nursing his wound and cursing colourfully under his breath. Fortunately, the wound wasn't as deep as he'd first thought – it didn't hurt nearly as much as his wounded pride, at any rate. Thoughts of revenge swam and swirled in his head.

He also wondered what had happened to Hrygda and Jormungand. Though he didn't want to admit it, he was really beginning to worry about his little brother. After all, the last time Fenrir had seen him, he had been facing the mighty god Thor. Besides, as well-hidden as Fenrir was, Jormungand should have been able to find him already. So, either he had managed to escape from Thor and was now rescuing Hel, or things had only gone downhill for him, and Fenrir very much doubted it was the former. Maybe Fenrir should go and look for him...

His ears picked up a very soft sound – footsteps – coming nearer and nearer the mouth of the cave. Steeling himself and suppressing a growl, Fenrir began to stand up without making a sound, glad for the concealing darkness of the cave.

Then, as soon as the figure outside came in, Fenrir recognised her scent and relaxed.

"I was wondering where you were," he remarked.

"Same here. I've been looking for you for hours!" said Hrygda. "I only found you because the smell of your blood is so strong. Are you all right?"

He felt her warm hand on his back, caressing and loving, and melted under her touch, an appreciative hum in the back of his throat.

"Yeah, it's not that bad. It hardly hurts any more," he reassured her.

"That's good," she sighed, scratching his ears and neck. "I was so worried! When that gatekeeper took a moment too long to get up, I climbed up the gate and came looking for you and your brother. But I wasn't the only one; there were all these people running around with weapons and torches, yelling about having to find some wolf demon and kill him. I figured they were talking about you."

"Were you seen?"

"No. I kept myself hidden all the time, and I made sure I wasn't followed when I came here."

He grunted in approval. "Did you see Jormungand?"

"No. Why? Is he missing?"

"I guess so. He was being chased by the god Thor when we went separate ways and I haven't seen him since."

"Do you think something happened to him?"

"I don't know. I wouldn't be surprised to find out that the idiot got himself killed or something." Despite his callous words, he could no longer keep the worried tone from his voice.

"I'm sure he's all right," said Hrygda, trying to comfort him. "So, anyway, why do you have all of Asgard hunting you down? What did you _do_ to them?"

"Me? I didn't do anything to them!" he protested. "In fact, I was trying to be nice to them – well, to one of them. You remember Sigyn, my old man's other wife? Well, I saw her with the other gods, and I was going to greet her... but then, they all freaked out on me! You should've seen their faces. Even when they all ganged up on me, they were scared shitless." He snorted. "Imagine that! Who would've thought the great gods would be scared of _me_?"

Hrygda was still for a moment, her eyes wide, then resumed her petting.

"Hmm, well, I don't think the gods are so cowardly. I think you can be really intimidating."

"Yeah?" he asked, his interest piqued.

"Mm-hmm. Who wouldn't be scared of you? I mean, you're so big and strong, and you have very sharp teeth and... intense, eerie eyes that glow ominously in the dark..." She breathed deeply and buried her face on his neck, smelling him, her hand still caressing him, though now at a slower, more deliberate pace, running her fingers through his fur. "And your voice alone sends shivers down one's spine and makes one's heart beat faster. So powerful, so striking, so beautiful..."

Flattered, Fenrir thought he should praise her in return, but was distracted from it when he felt her warm, wet tongue on his neck, licking him slowly, as if tasting him. His heart skipped a beat and he felt his blood run. Of course, Hrygda had licked him many times before, as she had almost every other wolf in the clan, but never like this. This time, it was different. It was more than just a casual gesture of affection for those in the same clan. This was much, much more special, more intimate. Tentatively, Fenrir licked her back. He did so with more reserve, but Hrygda seemed pleased and encouraged nevertheless.

"Fenrir," she said, breathing heavily, "you were always my favourite in the clan."

He just smiled, and they exchanged no more words throughout the night. There was no need for them any more.

oOo

When Hel entered Odin's library, it finally dawned on her that she was in paradise. Not most people's idea of paradise; that was Asgard as a whole, or the warriors' feasts in Valhalla. This was her own particular paradise, which made it all the more special and delightful. It was such a huge library, and there were so many books! Books on magic! Advanced magic she had never even heard of!

Odin just stood quietly near the door, allowing her the liberty to look at the entire library and read any book she liked. The problem was that there were so many great books, she just couldn't decide which one she wanted to read first. She leafed through them quickly, trying to absorb as much as possible in as little time as possible. After reading the same half dozen books back home for years, these were a wonderful, fresh change.

She must have been there for hours. Even when her eyes were so blurry from exhaustion that she could barely see the letters, she kept reading, almost completely unaware of her surroundings. As far as she was concerned, time had stopped and the world outside the library had faded to black.

Once in a while, she would ask Odin about a particularly interesting or puzzling excerpt, and he would gladly answer all her questions. Another thing she liked about him was that he didn't dumb down his explanations, even when it was advanced, complex topic. He treated her as an equal. He didn't even seem to mind that she often forgot to address him as "Lord" or "sir".

A sudden knock at the library's door jolted her back to the real world. Odin smiled at her reassuringly and excused himself. Hel held the book in front of her face so as to hide behind it and pretended to read, and when Odin opened the door, she risked a peek over the book to see who it was. She couldn't see them very well, especially since Odin hadn't opened the door all the way, but she recognised Thor and Freyja's voice. There were other two men with them, but Hel had no idea who they were.

They were whispering and mumbling, so Hel couldn't tell what they were talking about, until Odin burst out, "What?! Two giant monsters invaded Asgard _hours ago_ and you only thought to inform me of this _now_?"

The other gods stammered apologies and excuses.

"It was their fault!" said Freyja. "Thor and Tyr insisted on tracking down the beasts and made us all go with them!"

"That's not true!" protested Thor. "I was chasing one of them all by myself! It was Heimdall who dragged me into the search for the other monster! Just when I was about to slay the first one, too."

An argument broke out, all the gods pointing fingers and blaming each other. Odin sighed and ordered them all to be silent. The argument stopped immediately.

"I am disappointed in all of you," he said. "Especially you, Heimdall. You are our watchman. As such, you should have come to me right away. It is your duty to protect the gate and, failing that, to inform me of any invasion."

"I told you Heimdall was losing his touch," muttered Freyja.

"Why, you—"

"Be quiet!" snapped Odin.

Hel couldn't hold back an amused smile behind her book. Those gods were just like a bunch of children being chastised by their father. Come to think of it, that was pretty much what they were, really.

With another heavy sigh, Odin asked them to explain what exactly had happened. All the four gods began to talk rapidly and at the same time, but both Hel and Odin were still able to get the gist of it. They spoke of a "deranged giantess" that had attacked Heimdall and "two giant monsters" – a wolf and a serpent – that had almost killed the goddess Sigyn.

Hel had the growing suspicion that the two monsters in question were her brothers. Had they come after her? That was so stupid of them, yet utterly predictable. What didn't make sense was that they would attack the gods gratuitously. Tried to kill Sigyn? From what Hel knew, Fenrir was actually very fond of Sigyn, and Jormungand would never attack anyone unless provoked – even then, it would take a lot of provocation.

It didn't take her long to put two and two together. If those two monsters were indeed her brothers, Fenrir must have actually intended to greet Sigyn, but his appearance must have frightened the gods, who assumed they were under attack. That made sense.

"I wounded the wolf demon," said one of the god, whose name was still unknown to Hel. "But he escaped. While Thor chased the serpent demon, we went after the wolf."

"But we couldn't find it anywhere," said Freyja.

"And thanks to Heimdall, I also lost the serpent monster," said Thor.

"They said they would be coming back tomorrow," said the unnamed god.

They all fell silent, waiting for Odin's reaction. The Allfather hummed thoughtfully, much in the same way he had when considering Hel's curse.

"A giant wolf and a giant serpent... Did they say why they were invading Asgard?"

"What do you mean, 'why'? Giants – especially giant monsters – don't need a reason to attack us!" said Thor. "It's just what they _do_."

"I suppose," said Odin, his tone dismissive. "I trust Sigyn is all right? Good, good. Where is Loki?"

"Who knows?" said Thor, indifferently. "He's been gone for a good while now. You know what he's like. He could be anywhere by now."

"Exactly," said Heimdall. "I'm not sure we even want to know where he is. The bastard could be shagging the dead in Niflheim for all we know," he said, with an obvious shudder. "As long as he stays away from me, I don't really care where he is."

"Language, Heimdall," scolded Odin. "Well, it seems to me that there is nothing we can do for now. Let's just wait until tomorrow. If the monsters come back, I will take care of them personally."

"Father, the sun is about to rise," Thor pointed out.

"Ah, indeed. Our sun has certainly been very active lately. Well, you don't need to concern yourselves about this any longer. Leave it all to me. Go, now. Oh, and, Heimdall, I wish to talk to you. Wait for me in Valaskjalf."

The gods murmured their assent and took their leave.

Odin quietly closed the door and made his way back to Hel, who lowered the book and looked up at him, trying not to let her worry show. They'd said Fenrir was wounded, and she had no idea what had happened to Jormungand. Were they all right? Should she tell Odin the truth about them?

"My dear Hel," Odin began, his voice sweet as honey, "I am terribly sorry, but, as you just heard, we have a little problem in our hands, so I'm afraid you can't stay here."

"I understand, Lord Odin," she said, fingering the book. "I should be going, anyway. My mother must be worried sick. I've already done what I came here to do, which was to take my plea to Lady Freyja."

"Nevertheless, it is regretful that you have to go so soon. You must be tired."

"Thank you for your concern, sir, but I can make it."

"I don't doubt you can." He gestured at the books. "Tell you what, I will give you a gift. Pick any book you like and it's yours."

"Really?" she gasped. Her eyes swept over the endless shelves, then rested on the book in her hands. "Th-thank you, My Lord! I... I think I would like this one."

Odin smiled. "Very well. It's a good choice."

Minutes later, they were both standing at Valhalla's front gate.

"Thank you very much for everything you have done for me, Lord Odin," she told him, bowing.

"No, Hel, thank _you_. I am very glad I met you," he said as the gate opened apparently on its own.

Hel stepped outside, narrowing her eyes at the very dim light of early dawn. The other gods' halls were a small distance away, and she could even see the gods themselves walking around.

"Um, excuse me, Lord Odin," said Hel, looking back at him. "Could I please borrow that cloak again?"

"It's quite warm outside," Odin pointed out, an amused smile on his face.

"I know, but... I don't want the others to see my face."

"Remember what I said, Hel. Never hide your true self, and never try to change who you are."

"But—"

"Farewell, my dear."

The massive doors of the gate shut closed. Hel stared at it for a moment, pressing the book against her chest. Then, she turned on her heels and walked away, sad but resolute.

Crossing the gods' dwelling place was more upsetting and embarrassing than actually dangerous. No one attacked her or threw insults at her. In fact, they kept their distance, looking fearful and, at worst, disgusted. There were remarks, however, some of which Hel had the misfortune to overhear. Whispers about a foul, possibly diseased witch. Mothers told their children to avert their eyes and keep away, lest they contracted Hel's curse.

Her cheeks burning and tears threatening to fall, Hel hurried her pace to get away as quickly as possible. Even in Jotunheim, she had never been treated this way before. Even the most powerful and arrogant giants had never looked at her with such open, vile disdain. Never had anyone _feared_ her, as if she were some sort of soulless demon, or stayed away from her for fear of catching something or being cursed.

Once she left the gods well behind, she finally allowed herself to cry again. Still, she never stopped walking. One step after another, again and again, crossing a seemingly endless sea of flower fields. One might have wondered how anyone could be in such a beautiful place and yet feel miserable, but the perfect beauty of the place, in truth, only exacerbated her feelings of loneliness and shame, for she knew now that she could never belong to this world. The world of beauty. The world of happiness. A bright, warm, welcoming world where everyone loved and was loved. She was never meant to be in Paradise.

"Hel?"

She raised her head at the familiar voice. Like in a dream, Fenrir, Jormungand, and Hrygda stood before her, alive and well. By now, Hel's tears had dried, and she felt so lost and numb that she couldn't even muster the surprise or the joy to see her brothers.

"Hel?" Fenrir repeated, approaching her. Detachedly, she noted he had an almost imperceptible limp. "Are you all right? Where have you been?"

"It doesn't matter," she whispered, her voice sounding hollow even to her own ears. "What about you? Are you all right?"

"Yeah, we're okay. Jormungand and I got a little hurt, but nothing too bad."

"Good. Let's go home, then."

oOo

Sitting on Hlidskjalf, his high seat in Valaskjalf, Odin narrowed his unfocused eyes. This was just as he had expected. It seemed he wouldn't have to fight any monsters, after all. Not today, at least.

"Hugin, Munin," he called out. Two ravens flew in and perched on his shoulders. "Follow them. Watch them. And make sure Heimdall will kindly let them leave, like I told him to."

He sincerely hoped his suspicions weren't confirmed.


	8. Discoveries

**A/N**: Many thanks to **phantome101**, **VampireNaomi**, **tgeorges**, **Floyd**, and **Tashianna** for the kind reviews, and also to those who have faved this story!

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– **CHAPTER 8 –**

_**Discoveries**_

Ever since Hel had been given that magic book, she had not once let go of it. She carried it everywhere she went, usually with it open and her nose buried in it, so that several times her brothers had had to save her from tripping over something or bumping into a tree. She even slept with it, as if it were a cuddly doll.

Both brothers were becoming increasingly vexed by this, but dared not say a word about the book any more, lest they brought out their sister's ire. Once, they had managed to get a hold of the book and hide it while Hel had been taking a bath, as this was the only occasion when she would set the book aside. They had never known, until this incident, that their cute little sister could be so vicious. There really was quite a temper beneath that sweet, meek façade. It seemed that Hel could do anything to protect what was really important to her.

Of course, just because the two brothers never mentioned the book again didn't mean they would stop showing their displeasure in other ways. Fenrir, who had been spending more and more time with his siblings, was very blunt when speaking his mind about Hel's sedentary lifestyle, whereas Jormungand seemed to be trying to annoy her into quitting it, or so it felt like to her. He nagged so much that even Fenrir was getting annoyed – more annoyed than usual, that was.

"Really, Sister, all you do is sit here and read all day," Jormungand was complaining, while his two siblings were doing their best to tune his voice out. "You, too, Brother! Really, would it kill you to help our mother once in a while? She deserves it, after everything she has done for us, and she has a lot of work to do. I do what I can, but sadly, I have limits..." his voice trailed off and he let out a mournful sigh.

He truly regretted that, despite his best efforts, he couldn't really help his mother in any significant way. His body just wasn't built for housework. Hel, on the other hand, was perfectly capable of doing everything their mother did, and Fenrir could also be very helpful in many ways. But they just never bothered to help at all. They were just so lazy and selfish. That was why Jormungand kept insisting that they help, even when Angrboda herself assured him that she was fine doing the work all on her own. It was a mother's duty to care for her children, she always told him. Well, Jormungand rather thought that she had done more than enough for them by giving them life, love, food, and a place to live in. Now it was the children's duty to show their gratitude and care for their mother.

Shaking himself out of his reverie, Jormungand looked back at his siblings sternly.

"I'm not asking too much of you! You don't have to do _all_ the work! Just giving us a hand every now and then would be good enough. And besides, this isn't as unpleasant as you seem to think it is. You act like helping with the housework is some sort of arduous chore, but it can really be quite fun if only you—"

"Shut up!" Fenrir finally burst out, pawing at his ears in a desperate attempt to muffle out his brother's voice. "Shut up, shut up, shut up! I can't stand this any more! Gods, how can someone be so damn annoying?"

"Well, Brother," replied Jormungand primly, "if you actually listened to me and helped Mother at least once in your life, there would be no need for me to bring this up all the time."

"Argh!" Fenrir leapt to his paws, looking half-crazed. "I said, _shut up_!" With a ferocious snarl, he charged at his brother, snapping his jaws at him.

They both struggled for a while, appearing to be engaged in mortal battle, though in reality, if one looked closely, they weren't serious about it at all. Well aware of this, Hel just turned a page of her book, paying them no mind.

"Please stop!" she heard her younger brother wail. "You're getting drool all over me!" Fenrir's only reply was an extra drooly bite. "Ouch!" yelped Jormungand. "All right, all right! You win, Brother, you win!"

At last, Hel looked up from her book to give her brothers a disapproving look. Fenrir was standing over Jormungand's prostrated form with a smug face, while the serpent went limp and played dead.

"How old are you two, again?" she asked them snidely.

Jormungand, at least, had the grace to look sheepish, even if just for a second.

"Oh, Sister, it's just that... I'm just so glad that our brother is spending more time with us..." he said, beaming at both his siblings. When Jormungand averted his gaze, Fenrir made a disgusted face and pretended to throw up.

"Speaking of that, Brother Fenrir, why _have_ you been spending so much time with us lately?" Hel asked, unwilling to deal with Jormungand's sappiness or Fenrir's mocking antics. "What happened to Hrygda?"

"I have been wondering the same, myself," said Jormungand. "We haven't seen Hrygda in such a long time."

Fenrir scowled, all traces of amusement suddenly gone. "Oh, that. She's just been a bit of a bitch lately. No pun intended," he muttered and lay down on the ground, resting his head on his crossed paws.

While Jormungand was a bit flustered by Fenrir's foul language, Hel just continued to regard her elder brother with a level gaze, looking mildly intrigued.

"Did you two have a fight?" she asked.

"No. She's just been so annoying, I can barely stand to be anywhere near her for more than five minutes. Believe it or not, she's got even more annoying than this idiot here," Fenrir growled, indicating his younger brother.

"That's odd," said Hel, frowning. "Maybe there's something wrong with her."

"Yeah, I think she might be ill or something."

"Oh? What makes you think so?"

He hesitated, looking almost embarrassed. "Well, she smells different. And she looks a little, er, bloated, and the others say she sometimes gets sick... I'm not too worried, though. The elders in the clan seem to know what's wrong with her, and they're not worried. Whatever is wrong with her, it's not my problem, and I can wait until it's fixed."

Hel opened her mouth to reply, but Jormungand beat her to it.

"Brother! How can you be so callous?" he chided him. "I thought she was your best friend! You should be there for her, especially if she's ill! You shouldn't give up on someone who is special to you just because they're being difficult. And she needs you now more than ever!"

Fenrir never listened to Jormungand – or to anyone, really, except maybe to his father, but especially not to Jormungand – and yet now he actually seemed to heed those words. He would never admit that Jormungand might be right about something, of course, but he did look properly ashamed of himself. Proof of this was that he didn't even snap at his little brother.

Suddenly, Jormungand froze and reared up. "Something is approaching at an amazing speed," he whispered.

Fenrir's nose twitched in the air, trying to catch the scent of whatever was coming their way. Feeling an odd sense of déjà vu, Hel remained silent and alert, her gaze bouncing from one brother to the other. She was ready to bolt at the slightest sign of trouble.

After a couple of minutes, Hel thought she could hear something as well. It was a very familiar sound, just as the scent was very familiar to both brothers. There was a rumble and then the trio was enveloped by a cloud of dust and leaves. Once they stopped coughing and the dust settled, they could finally see their elder half-brother, the eight-legged stallion Sleipnir. This time, however, he wasn't alone. A beautiful, motherly woman with blonde hair and a warm smile was elegantly mounted on him.

"Found you!" said Sleipnir with his usual enthusiasm.

"Sleipnir! Sigyn!" Fenrir said just as happily.

Hel and Jormungand, on the other hand, were a little wary of the stranger. The serpent in particular was having misgivings about this. The last time Fenrir had excitedly shouted that name, Jormungand had ended up with a thunder god beating the daylights out of him and chasing him into a lake. As inconspicuously as possible for someone of his considerable size, he eased his way behind a tree and some bushes.

"Fenrir!" Sigyn dismounted from Sleipnir and giggled as she allowed the wolf to lick her hands and face. "Oh, my dear, I missed you so much!" she said, giving him a hug.

"I missed you, too, Sigyn! I couldn't even talk to you the last time I saw you!" He pulled back with the look of a kicked dog. "Why did you scream like that when you saw me? I wasn't going to hurt you, you know!"

"Oh, Fenrir..." she began, with a chagrined look, and petted him. "I'm so sorry. I know you would never hurt me. I just didn't recognise you! I mean, the last time I'd seen you, you were just a little puppy, so small I could easily carry you around. And now look at you!" She gave him an admiring look. "You've grown so much! You're much bigger than an adult wolf."

"It's 'cause I'm a giant!" said Fenrir proudly. "Mu mum says I'm going to grow even bigger." They both laughed, until Fenrir's expression grew apologetic. "I'm sorry I scared you before."

"Aww, don't worry about it, dear."

"So, not that I'm not happy to see you, but what are you doing here?"

Sigyn smiled and gestured at Sleipnir. "When Sleipnir came to visit, he explained to me that the wolf that had invaded Asgard was actually you. He also told me that you're Loki's son and that he knew where you lived, so I asked him to bring me along the next time he was allowed to come to Jotunheim."

"Glad I could help!" said Sleipnir.

"He also told me that the other – er – monsters that were in Asgard that day were your siblings," continued Sigyn as she, along with Fenrir and Sleipnir, turned to look at Hel, who seemed embarrassed and angry that she was now the centre of the attention.

"I'm not a monster," she muttered, turning slightly sideways and discreetly trying to conceal the rotting half of her face behind a curtain of hair.

"Of course you're not," Sigyn hurried to say. "I apologise for my ill wording. It's just that all the other gods refer to you that way, and they don't know any better..." She cut herself off and shook her head. "No, that's no excuse. Please forgive me, Hel." She tentatively reached out and gently pulled that lock of hair behind Hel's ear, her fingers brushing against the girl's rotting cheek. Sigyn didn't seem disgusted by it at all, though, and her gaze remained unwaveringly warm. "You're such an adorable little girl. How can anyone in their right mind call you a monster? If the gods had bothered to really look at you, they'd have seen it. You are no monster."

Except for a slight narrowing of the eyes, Hel's face remained impassive. She seemed to be waiting for something. Fenrir and Sleipnir exchanged inquisitive looks, but neither had a clue about what was going through Hel's mind. Oblivious to it all, Sigyn looked up from Hel's eyes when she caught sight of something by the tree a few feet away.

"And _you_ must be little Jormungand, right?" she said, walking over to the serpent, who was doing his best to make himself invisible among the bushes. "Come on out, there is no need to be shy."

Despite her encouraging words, as soon as she parted the bushes and took her first good look at him, an acute shriek escaped her lips and she stumbled back, nearly falling over. _Little Jormungand_, she had called him. Either Sleipnir had been a little economical with the truth when describing his youngest brother, or the poor woman was really that clueless and thought he had been just exaggerating.

She slapped her hand over her mouth, ashamed for her outburst. "Oh, dear!" She chuckled nervously. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scream. I was just a little startled, is all. I didn't expect you to be this..." her voice trailed off and her eyes widened exponentially as Jormungand gave up on hiding and slowly emerged from the bushes, his long body never seeming to end. "... big," Sigyn finished weakly. Behind her, Fenrir sniggered, thoroughly amused both by Sigyn's dismay and his brother's awkwardness.

Pulling herself together, Sigyn offered Jormungand a smile as warm as she had offered Hel and reached out to pet him on the head. Her movements were slow, her touch hesitant, but not because she was afraid of him or disgusted; maybe she realised, somehow, that Jormungand wasn't very keen on being touched by a stranger.

"You're a good boy, Jormungand," she told him. "Thor said he almost killed you in Asgard. I hope he didn't hurt you too badly... Are you all right now?"

Jormungand looked up with a jerk, more than a little surprised by the question. He had never expected anyone but his family, especially not a goddess, to worry about his well-being – and he could tell her concern was genuine. He felt oddly touched.

"I wasn't badly hurt, and I am fully healed now, madam, thank you."

"Oh, please!" Sigyn giggled. "Don't call me that; it makes me feel like an old woman. Call me Sigyn."

"As you wish, Lady Sigyn."

Sigyn's lips twitched in barely suppressed amusement. "You're so polite, it's almost scary. Quite uncanny, coming from a snake." She turned to look at all four siblings. "You're all such adorable children! Next time, I think I'll bring my sons to meet you."

Fenrir and Sleipnir didn't seem to think that was a very good idea, but they didn't like to upset Sigyn by voicing their opinion. Although Fenrir hadn't got to know Sigyn's sons very well, he had been in their presence long enough to gather they weren't exactly a pair of social butterflies. In fact, they had struck him as rather stoic and depressed. Come to think of it, they just might get along with Hel, after all.

"Well, now I've met nearly the whole family," said Sigyn, clasping her hands. "Only one person left. Can you tell me where your mother is? I'd love to meet her!"

"Sure, I'll take you to her," volunteered Fenrir.

"Oh, no, dear, that's not necessary. Just give me instructions to get there and you children can keep playing out here while I see your mother."

Fenrir looked like Sigyn had just physically slapped him. "B-but—"

"I just want to talk to her in private for a moment, and Sleipnir was really eager to talk to you," said Sigyn, with a placating gesture and an unassuming smile. As if on cue, Sleipnir shifted and shuffled his feet, as if barely able to refrain from bouncing up and down like no self-respecting stallion ever should. Still, Fenrir wasn't very happy.

"But—"

"Brother," Jormungand admonished him softly and then turned to Sigyn. "Of course, Lady Sigyn, we understand." He quickly gave her directions to the abode; it wasn't very far or even very difficult to find, if one had a keen eye and wasn't afraid of going into the heart of Ironwood.

"Thank you, Jormungand," she said once she was sure she had got the directions correctly. She stroke his scaly head again, which earned him a slightly jealous look from Fenrir. "I'll see you later today, then. Take good care of your little siblings, okay?"

"Whaaat?!" Fenrir burst out and his jaw hit the ground. By the time he recovered from the shock, Sigyn had long left, but he still shouted, "I'm nothis little brother! I'm the oldest brother, dammit! And I'm _not_ a child!"

"Well, you have to admit that Jormungand acts and sounds a lot more mature than you," remarked Hel. "And he also looks bigger, since he's so long."

"And technically, I'm the oldest one here," Sleipnir pointed out.

While Fenrir silently fumed, Hel turned to address Jormungand.

"Are you sure it was wise to let her go to Mother by herself?"

"Ironwood is hardly dangerous at this time of the day," said Jormungand.

"That's not what I mean. Can we really trust her? How do we know she's not going to hurt our mother?"

"Sigyn? Never!" said Sleipnir, appalled. "Sigyn wouldn't hurt a fly! She's the sweetest person in all the nine worlds!"

"That's right!" said Fenrir, grudgingly putting his annoyance aside. "If anything, it's Mum who might hurt Sigyn."

"I am disturbed that you seem to have more faith in a stranger from Asgard than in your own mother," said Hel coldly.

"I-I didn't mean it like that!" protested Fenrir, flustered, but Hel ignored him and turned to face Jormungand once more.

"Well? Aren't you going to say anything? What do you think of this Sigyn person? Do you like her?"

"I neither like nor dislike her," answered Jormungand nonchalantly. "But she's very nice, and I couldn't detect anything threatening about her. I think she's safe, and that's all that matters to me."

oOo

Sitting in a chair in front of the fireplace in her abode, Angrboda was listlessly sewing one of Hel's dresses. With her mind elsewhere, she would often accidentally prickle a finger, or get something wrong and have to undo her work only to start over, but she didn't paid that any mind. For a good while now, she had been feeling rather lonely and wondering where Loki was. He hadn't visited in so long...

Perhaps something had happened to him. The last time he had gone so long without seeing his giant family had been years ago, back when Fenrir had been a tiny puppy and Jormungand no longer than Angrboda's arm. He had apologised for his absence and promised to visit more often – a promise he had kept for many years to come. What could possibly be delaying him this time?

Oddly enough, the children hadn't been inquiring after their father. Maybe they had given up, but Angrboda rather suspected that they had been up to some kind of mischief. Months ago, they had been gone for an unusually long time, and when Angrboda asked them to elaborate on what they had been doing, they would always find an excuse to make a hurried exit or change the subject. After a while, Angrboda decided to let it go. Obviously no harm had come to them, and that was what mattered.

A sudden, but soft, knock on the door jolted her out of her thoughts and made her heart leap. The children wouldn't knock on the door of their own home. Could it be Loki? Taking a deep, laborious breath, Angrboda dropped the dress and the needle and stumbled over to the door.

Her hopes crashed when she saw a stranger at her doorstep and were replaced for disappointment and wariness. She didn't think she had ever seen this woman before, and she knew everyone who dwelt in Ironwood. Worse, Angrboda was pretty sure that before her stood a goddess.

"Can I help you?" she asked, her expression and voice neutral.

"Good afternoon," greeted the other woman courteously. Her voice was very serious, but there was no hint of coldness or threat in it. "Are you Angrboda?"

"Who wants to know?"

"I am Sigyn. I'm sure you've heard of me."

"Sigyn..." Angrboda's blood ran cold. "You are Loki's wife!"

Sigyn nodded. "May I come in, Angrboda?"

The giantess breathed hard, frantically wondering if she should be deny her identity. In the end, she decided against it. She was no coward; goddess or not, Angrboda would face her. Besides, it would be pointless to deny it. Judging by her tone of voice, Sigyn had not doubted for a moment that she was addressing the right person.

"I mean you no harm," said Sigyn when Angrboda didn't move to let her in. The goddess' expression softened, looking almost pitiful. "I just want to talk."

Reluctantly, Angrboda stepped back and let Sigyn come inside her home. Having closed the door, she went back to her chair by the fireplace, while Sigyn sat on the other chair next to it. The chair which Loki would sit on when it was cold and dark and they both sought the warmth of the fireplace. Angrboda glared slightly and made no move to pick up the fallen dress and needle from the floor. She was tense and wary, anxious to hear what Sigyn had to say.

Sigyn, on the other hand, was very relaxed and in no hurry at all. She made herself comfortable on Loki's chair and smiled at Angrboda.

"I just met your children," she remarked. "They're lovely. Little Hel and Jormungand seem to be the quiet, shy type. They remind me of my boys."

Angrboda tried to hide the twinge of fear she felt. The goddess Sigyn had met Loki's giant children?

"What did you do to them?" whispered Angrboda threateningly.

"I didn't do anything to them," said Sigyn, appalled. "All I did was say hello! I'd already met Fenrir before, and I missed him dearly. He was our pet for one day, you know." She laughed at the memory. "Of course, I had no idea it was him at the time. When I finally found out who he was, it only made me love him even more. And then I just had to meet the rest of his family."

Angrboda tilted her head, not sure she had understood.

"You... know who Fenrir is? What exactly do you mean by that?"

"I know he's Loki's son. And you're his mother."

Angrboda pursed her lips. "Who told you that?" Surely Loki wouldn't have told anyone in Asgard about his giant family? He was a little reckless sometimes, yes, but not _stupid_.

"A very reliable source."

"I see," said Angrboda, her shoulders drooping in resignation. "So you know about me and Loki."

"I have known about you and Loki for a very long time," said Sigyn solemnly. Again, Angrboda was surprised by the lack of hostility in the goddess' eyes, on top of being surprised by the revelation. "At first I just suspected it. And then I just knew it..."

"If you knew about us, how come you've only come to see me now? Did you take that long to find out where I live?"

"Yes and no. I never actively searched for you, but I always wished to meet you in person."

"Get to the point!" Angrboda snapped, though she kept her tone soft. "Are you here to dispose of me or not?"

"Dear Lord Odin, no!" Sigyn looked quite disturbed by the mere suggestion. "I could never 'dispose' of anyone, let alone of you. Even if I were so inclined, I am sure I would be no match for you." She sighed. "But no, I wasn't lying when I said I don't mean you any harm. Nor would I ever hurt your children, for that matter."

"Then why are you here?" asked Angrboda, now more confused than anything else. "How can you not be upset about this? Don't you resent me for my... association with Loki?"

"The question is, do _you _resent _me_?" Sigyn replied calmly.

Angrboda lowered her head and took a minute to contemplate her answer.

"I suppose I was a little jealous in the beginning," she admitted, her gaze on her feet. "But then, I figured, who am I to demand or even expect that Loki will only want to be with me? If you can make Loki happy, no matter how, I am your friend. As long as I can be by Loki's side and see him smile, I am happy. As long as he's here..."

"But he is not here, is he?"

Angrboda looked up abruptly and gave Sigyn a defensive look, expecting the goddess to gloat about how Loki spent more time with his family in Asgard than with Angrboda. What she saw, however, was just the opposite. In a way, it was like looking in the mirror. Sigyn had the same wistful, resigned look in her eyes as Angrboda, if not even more apparently.

"Nor is he in Asgard," continued Sigyn. "To tell the truth, I was hoping to find him here with you."

"What do you mean?" With a sinking feeling in her stomach, Angrboda grasped the arms of her chair. "Did something happen to Loki?"

"I don't know. I don't think so," murmured Sigyn, her eyes staring unseeingly at the fireplace. "He told me he was going to have some fun in Midgard, and he hasn't come home ever since. I'm not worried; I'm confident he can take care of himself. I just miss him so much..." Her eyes regained their focus and turned to meet Angrboda's gaze knowingly. "And I'm certainly not the only one."

Angrboda was speechless. She didn't even know what to think, let alone what to say.

"You and I have much in common, Angrboda. We both love Loki dearly and don't care who puts a smile on his face, as long as we can be by his side at least once in a while. We both have learnt to deal with that. And we both have children who look up to him, and suffer terribly because they rarely see him and are unable to bond with their own father." She smiled sadly, averting her gaze towards the fireplace once more. "Of course, your children didn't really tell me as much in our very brief encounter, but I can tell. As I said, they remind me a lot of my sons. Your children have that same characteristic look about them that I've grown so used to seeing in my own children." She looked down at her clasped hands, as though about to confess something very shameful. "As much as I love Loki, I admit he has his flaws... And one of them is that he just can't reach out to children. He doesn't like children. He has no patience for them, doesn't know how to deal with them. He thinks of them as a nuisance."

Without really realising what she was doing, Angrboda absently nodded in agreement. Meanwhile, thoughts were running miles through her head. So Loki gave his "official" family exactly the same treatment as he did his giant family? This thought should have been comforting, but it only deepened Angrboda's sorrow. How could she resent a young woman in love and two children when they all suffered as much as Angrboda herself and her own children?

Angrboda felt Sigyn's pain. For the first time in her entire life, she could empathise with someone. Loki had never really understood her feelings, and she and her children reacted differently to the void that Loki left in their hearts. Moreover, Angrboda tried not to show her weakness to them. She had to be strong for them, in order to support them and alleviate their pain. If they ever found out about her feelings – the extent of her suffering – they would only worry and suffer even more on her behalf. They might even go as far as to feel guilty, believing it was their fault that Loki didn't visit more often, or worse yet, they might start to resent Loki. In fact, Hel had already made a few remarks to that effect, and even Jormungand had once wondered why Angrboda never tried to find a new companion, since she looked so lonely.

They were children, too young to understand.

But Sigyn understood perfectly.

"You understand me."

For a moment, Angrboda thought she had spoken out loud. Then, she realised that it was Sigyn who had said it.

"We are kindred spirits," Sigyn continued, her eyes full of compassion. "As such, we should stick together, not fight. We have one goal – Loki's happiness – and for that we need to make sacrifices. Hopefully, if we support each other, those sacrifices won't seem to great any more."

"Maybe you're right," admitted Angrboda, with a lopsided smile. "It's not the same as having Loki by my side, but I suppose it wouldn't hurt to try. I've never really had a friend..."

Sigyn's eyes went wide. "What? Never?"

"Giants don't have the custom of making friends," said Angrboda wryly.

With a radiant smile, Sigyn got up from the chair and came to stand before Angrboda.

"Then I would be honoured to be your first and best friend," she said, with a curtsey.

A genuine, completely spontaneous smile formed on Angrboda's lips long before she even realised it. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt this content in Loki's absence.

She believed she could actually grow to like this goddess.

oOo

A pale, slender hand, half-covered by a long, flowing sleeve, was lazily held out so that a raven could perch on it. Another hand petted the bird lovingly before it flew again to perch on a red-clad shoulder, just as another raven flew in to perch on its owner's other shoulder.

Odin's brow furrowed as the two ravens related their findings.

He let out a sigh.

"Well, there is no more doubt about it," he said. "Although Loki never did make an appearance, this was more than enough to confirm my suspicions. I do believe this is the first time that I regret being right."

He stood up from his throne and walked over to the window. Gazing at the bright, cloudless sky in anguish, he whispered:

"Oh, Loki, my brother... What have you done?"

oOo

It was night in Jotunheim. Angrboda, Hel, and Jormungand were all sleeping, and Fenrir was just getting ready to go out to meet Hrygda. He had postponed this meeting for too long already, and he also had the uncanny feeling that he needed to see her as soon as possible. He felt as though she were calling out to him. He knew it was probably just an impression, but it made him feel guilty and very uneasy nonetheless.

However, as soon as he stepped out of the abode, he knew there was something wrong.

Before he could even try to guess what it could be, several armoured bodies fell on him seemingly out of nowhere and pinned him to the ground. He gasped in surprised and tried to struggle free, but arms, chains, and ropes wrapped around his entire body, effectively immobilizing him.

"Quickly! Go inside and get the other two!" yelled a voice that Fenrir instantly recognised as the god Tyr's.

"The serpent is mine!" shouted Thor.

Hel woke up with a start at the sounds of banging, heavy, hurried steps, the clanging of swords, and doors and furniture being broken down. She was quite disoriented by the mayhem outside her room and, for a while, believed she was still dreaming and in the middle of a war.

Dream or not, when her door was smashed open and two bulky warriors in full armour, one brandishing a sword and the other an axe, came in and set their eyes on her, she let out an acute panicked scream which was only silenced when they gagged her.

Jormungand, who slept in the same room as Hel, was awoken by the strong vibrations on the floor, and Hel's scream greatly alarmed him, but he was too sluggish and confused to fully understand what was going on and properly react.

"There you are!" said a baleful voice that pierced through the haze of Jormungand's mind and sent chills down his very long body. "I have you now, monster!"

"Remember, Thor, you're not supposed to kill it!" said someone else, a stranger. "We only have orders to capture them – alive!"

"Yeah, yeah, I know."

A strong, calloused hand grabbed Jormungand's tail. The serpent instinctively bared his fangs and tried to lung at the warrior, but his movements were still too slow from sleep and Thor was able to draw back in time to avoid a bite.

"Here, use this. I knew we'd need it," said another unknown voice.

Next thing he knew, something half-wrapped around his neck and pinned it to the floor. Now that he couldn't raise his head, the warriors weren't afraid of holding him. He thrashed the rest of his body, which was still free, but in the end, although he was very strong, he was fully immobilized thanks to the joint effort of at least ten men. The object that had been holding his head down – a long stick with a small fork at one end, seemingly – was lifted as Thor carefully took a hold Jormungand's neck in such a way that the serpent remained unable to move his head freely and use his fangs.

"All right, we've got all of them!" announced Thor. "Let's go back!"

When the group left the room, Angrboda was blocking their way, brandishing a long, heavily splintered piece of furniture as if it were a sword.

"What are you doing with my children?" she yelled, sounding as hysterical as she looked. "Leave them alone!"

"Step aside, woman!" barked one of the warriors, undaunted.

"We do not wish to harm you," said another, "but we'll not hesitate to do so if you get in our way."

"I'd like to see you try!" she spat and calmed down just enough to start whispering a spell.

"Oh, no, you don't!" One of the gods holding Jormungand let go of his victim and rushed to Angrboda. His gloved hand struck her forehead and she fell back, unconscious.

"Heimdall, you coward!" shouted Thor. "How could you hit a woman?!"

"I didn't hurt her!" snapped Heimdall as he went back to holding part of Jormungand, who had started to struggle again at the sight of his mother's defeat. "I only put her to sleep so she won't get in the way."

"Right," said Thor as he stepped over Angrboda with a wary glance at her. "Let's go back to Asgard, then. Quickly!"


	9. Broken Families

**A/N**: _Finally_, the last chapter. I'm not too pleased with it, to be completely honest, but I couldn't write it any other way. Still, I'm glad I was able to finish yet another long fic, and I'm satisfied with the way the story turned out as a whole. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thank you for reading!

* * *

– **CHAPTER 9 –**

_**Broken Families**_

The sun was rising in Asgard when the warriors arrived with their captures. It looked like all the inhabitants of Asgard were gathered in front of Valhalla. Odin was there, as well, sitting on a high throne that he had supposedly conjured from the earth so that he could wait patiently outside. His face was impassive, while most of the others gods looked either very frightened or very angry.

Now that they were completely surrounded by so many other gods, including the almighty Odin, and the three giants had grown weary of struggling, the warriors felt it was quite safe to let go of them. Having done so, they stepped aside so that everyone could behold the trio.

Unknown to the gods, the children were even more scared and confused than them. They still didn't understand what was going on, but they knew it couldn't be anything remotely good. Now that Thor had left their side, Jormungand was able to mask his apprehensiveness and coiled up next to his sister, who was also trying, but failing, to hide her fear. Fenrir only glared around him before settling his gaze on Odin and emitting a low growl.

Odin stood up and gestured at the giants.

"My children, these are the monsters that invaded Asgard a few months ago, as you well remember," he stated, his voice clearly audible to all present. "Since that fateful day, none of us has had a peaceful night of sleep, knowing that these beasts lurked about and could strike again at any time. We feared they would attack us in our sleep, or slaughter our young ones when we were not there to watch them. Well, my children, you can rest at ease from now on, for these despicable monsters will be brought to justice at last!"

The gods cheered, and the children could hear some voices demanding to see giant blood spilled. Then, amidst the shouts of rejoicing, one single voice protested. A blonde woman in a white dress pushed her way through the crowd and fell on her knees before Odin.

"Lord Odin, I beg of you, don't do this!" she cried, grabbing his long robe in desperation. Tears were streaming down her face. "They're not monsters! They're only children! They're Loki's—" She was silenced when Odin rested his slender fingers over her lips.

"My dear Sigyn. As always, you endeavour to see good in every living being. Unfortunately, these monsters don't have any good in them. They are dangerous, bloodthirsty beasts, like all giants. They do not deserve your pity." He straightened back up, removing his hand from her lips. Sigyn's mouth moved, but only soft sobs came out. She shook her head and her hands touched the ground, her arms shaking as if it took her great effort to support her own weight. Odin walked around her and stepped forwards to block the sight of her from the others' eyes. "But I respect Sigyn's pleas. We must make sure these monsters won't be a threat to us, but that doesn't mean we have to kill them."

He cast a cold, disdainful look at Jormungand. Then, wordlessly, he stretched out both hands in the serpent's direction. A light blue aura enveloped the youngest giant and he gasped when he was lifted from the ground by an invisible force. When Jormungand was a few feet up, Odin pulled his hands back and them thrust them forwards again, faster than before. Jormungand was launched back in the air, back in the direction of Jotunheim, until he disappeared into the blue of the sky.

"Jormungand!" Hel shouted, still staring at the point where she had last seen him. What in the nine worlds had Odin done to her brother?!

"You bastard!" Fenrir snarled and began to charge at Odin, but the warrior gods stopped him halfway. It was very difficult to hold back such a big, strong giant, but the gods were also very strong, and with their combined strength they were able to subdue Fenrir.

Odin stared at him. Whereas he had only given Jormungand a mildly disdainful look, as though the serpent were beneath his notice, Odin's eyes held very strong feelings as they focused on Fenrir, and even his countenance had gained some emotion. Fury, hatred... and something else that was quite difficult to name.

Something close to fear.

"I want this one close to me, where I can keep an eye on him," he said. "Take him away."

"Where to, Lord Odin?" asked Tyr.

"Anywhere," Odin snapped. "Just make sure he can't escape. I'll deal with him later."

"Yes, my Lord."

"Now, last but definitely not least," Odin purred as he met Hel's gaze. He gestured at her to approach him, which she did reluctantly, still trying to hold back her tears.

She could barely recognise Odin. He hadn't changed physically, of course, but he was no longer the kind, silly, fatherly man who had treated her so well in his own palace and gifted her with a book that had become her most precious possession in all the nine worlds. Now he was a cruel madman who had kidnapped her and unjustly punished her brothers. It was unbelievable! Had his generous attitude been just an act all along? Or was this an impostor?

"Hel, my dear," he said in the same gentle voice he had used when he had talked to her months ago. Back then it had comforted her; now it sickened her. He spoke very softly, so that only she could hear him. "From the moment you told me you were Loki's daughter, I knew you were very special. Not only because you are his child, but this..." He touched the rotten side of her face delicately. "This is fate. You are clearly destined to be a goddess."

Hel's eyes widened. Of all things she had thought Odin might say, this definitely wasn't one of them.

"A goddess? Like you and Father?" she asked, wary.

"Why not? You are very powerful. And being Loki's daughter, you are technically a half-goddess already." He raised his other hand to touch the healthy side of her face. His gaze was intense, but his smile and voice were serene, almost loving. "I shall make you a queen. You shall have a huge realm, just for you, with your name, and many vast mansions and servants."

"Really?" she asked, a little wary and a lot hopeful.

"Yes. I shall also bestow upon you authority over the nine worlds. Your duty will be to administer board and lodging to those sent to you."

Hel blinked. That sounded too good and easy to be true. "I see. W-will I get many visitors?"

"Oh, yes. Very many," he said, with an enigmatic smile. "Women, children, and men who die of old age. There are many of them."

"What?" she said in alarm, certain she had misunderstood. "'Die of old age?'"

"You will make the perfect goddess of death," said Odin, touching the top of her head. "I'll see you in Hel."

Before his words registered, Hel vanished in a flash of light.

oOo

The crowd had dissipated, gone to throw a party to celebrate the imprisonment of the so-called giant monsters. Now only Odin and Sigyn were left, the latter still paralysed and speechless from the former's spell. Odin stood in front of her and waved his hand in her direction.

"How could you?" she sobbed. "They were just children! They never did anything wrong! When they entered Asgard months ago, they didn't mean any harm! It was all a misunderstanding." She shakily pulled herself to her feet. "My Lord, Loki will be devastated when he hears about this..."

Odin smiled. "If I know my brother Loki, he will be a little sad at first, maybe even feel a little guilty, but he won't dwell on it. He will hardly be 'devastated' by it. If he really cared about his children, he'd have spent more time with them, don't you think? Er, no offence to you and your children, of course."

She looked up sharply. "How did you know Loki didn't spend much time with them?"

"You should know by now, dear Sigyn," he said, with a wry smile. "I know everything that goes on in the nine worlds."

"If you knew about them, why did you do this now? Why did you do it at all? If you know everything, you must know they never meant us any harm! There was no reason to punish them!"

"Sigyn, Sigyn, think about what I just told you," he said, crossing his arms. "I know everything. _You _don't. I have my reasons – excellent reasons, I assure you – to have done this to Loki's giant children. Do not worry; I will not do the same to your children. You must believe me when I say I always do everything with the best intentions in mind. Besides, I would never hear the end of it if I didn't get rid of the monsters. My children have been nagging at me for months about it."

He turned his back to her.

"Please go home and try not to concern yourself over giants that had no relation to you. It's not worth it."

"Where are you going? I'm not done talk—"

"Go home, Sigyn! That's an order!" he snapped, raising his voice just a little, though it was enough to shock Sigyn. She had never seen him so angry.

Reluctant and with a heavy heart, Sigyn bowed to Odin and left, silently mourning the fate of those three children.

Now her sons would never be able to play with them, either...

oOo

Odin stalked into the hall where some of his children were still struggling to keep Fenrir under control. Apparently, Fenrir was somewhat resistant to the paralysis spell that someone had tried to cast on him while Odin had been taking care of Hel and Sigyn.

The Allfather glared at the giant wolf, painfully aware of the danger it was not only to himself, but to all the worlds as they knew them. If he had deciphered the Norns' prophecy correctly, this giant was to be his killer in Ragnarok. Odin dared not try to kill it. Doing so might trigger the events that would lead to Ragnarok. He needed to keep this giant alive, but safe for the gods.

"Father!" shouted Thor, who was still helping Tyr and the others with Fenrir. "Why did you made the serpent disappear? It was mine to kill! I told you a million times I've been trying to kill it for years!"

"He's still alive, Thor," said Odin. "Feel free to hunt him down if you like, as long as you don't harm any innocents in the process or bring him to Asgard."

"Oh, so it's still alive? That's great!"

"Lord Odin, we tried to bind him with the fetter Leyding, but he tore it as if it were made of cloth!" said Heimdall.

"Then get another, stronger fetter!" ordered Odin.

"I'm way ahead of you," announced Freyr, who was just coming in with a huge fetter in his hands. It looked unbreakable. "This is Dromi."

"Perfect. Bind him."

After some struggle, the fetter was placed on Fenrir. The gods backed away to admire their success. However, Fenrir didn't give up after the first few failures to snap the fetter. He kept kicking and straining until it finally snapped, much to the gods' shock.

"Hah! There isn't a fetter in all the nine worlds that can bind the great Fenrir!" the wolf gloated.

The only response from the gods was dismayed silence. Then, Odin suddenly grinned and said, "You know, this is quite entertaining!"

Both the gods and Fenrir stared at him in disbelief.

"Entertaining, Father?!" Thor burst out. "If we can't bind him, he's going to kill us!"

"It's interesting to watch him tear these fetters apart so easily," said Odin. "And I'm sure that Fenrir is having even more fun seeing our shocked faces when he breaks free."

Fenrir snorted and smirked, showing a row of very sharp teeth. "Damn right I am!"

"Since we're all having so much fun," Odin went on, ignoring his sons' odd stares, "let's turn this into a game. Tell you what, Fenrir, we'll bring you another fetter. If you can snap it, we will set you free. My children, take him to the island Lyngvi, then come to see me. Fenrir, wait for us there."

oOo

Jormungand's trip across the skies wasn't as long as anyone might have thought, and it was almost pleasant compared to what came afterwards. The moment his body touched the freezing water of the ocean, it screamed with agony. Jormungand had swum in cold water before, but it had never been anything like this. There had to be some kind of spell involved to make it so much worse.

Lying on the ground undersea, he tried to raise his head, to swim back to the surface, but he felt too weak to move even a little. The pain receded quickly, but now his whole body felt numb. He couldn't even think any more. All he was aware of was the debilitating cold and the urgent need to stay awake.

It was a hopeless fight, however. Even a warm-blooded being would have succumbed to this environment. In a matter of moments, Jormungand's sight faded to black and he knew no more.

oOo

_I'll see you in Hel._

Odin's words were still ringing in Hel's ears when everything around her became dark and a mist surrounded her. The smell of death and putrefaction assaulted her nostrils, making her gag. She stumbled off, hoping to get away from the source of the horrible smell, but it followed her everywhere. Eventually, the mist dissipated somewhat, so that she was able to see some of her surroundings.

She then immediately wished the mist was still clouding her sight.

All around her lay corpses rotten to various degrees. Most of them belonged to small children, and the men's cadavers were the ones in worst condition. And they were all looking at her, even though some of them didn't even have eyeballs any more. Hel almost got sick at the sight of them and had to look away. Without really looking where she was going, she ran away, tripping over a few bodies that were lying around. However, as much as she ran, she felt as though she were going nowhere. She didn't give up, though; she only ran faster when she noticed the corpses were following her.

Eventually, she found a huge, decaying hall, where she sought refuge. She was glad that there were no corpses inside it and none of those outside had come in after her. She shivered from the cold and feverishly wondered where she was and, more importantly, how she was going to get out.

Soft steps made her freeze on the spot. A couple had emerged from the shadows and was lazily coming in her direction, their unblinking eyes focused on her. Hel immediately noticed they were different from the others. They looked dead, but their bodies weren't visibly rotting, and their clothes were nice and clean.

They stood before her and bowed.

"Welcome to Hel, Mistress," said the man. "I am your servant Ganglati."

"And I am your serving-maid Ganglot," said the woman. "This is your new home, Eljudnir. If you will follow me this way, I will serve your dinner. It is my speciality: Hunger."

"Which the Mistress will eat with a special knife called Famine," complemented Ganglati.

"And then I will prepare the Sick Bed for the Mistress to sleep in."

For the second time in her life and in less than a day, Hel screamed. She ran away from the two dead servants, but that only led her back to the front door, before which the rotting corpses were still intent on following her. With no way to escape, Hel collapsed on the floor, sobbing.

"Please get me out of here, Father!"

oOo

Fenrir had to admit he was thoroughly confused, which was a most unpleasant feeling to him. The gods wanted to make this a game, whatever that meant. They had brought him to a small island for some reason he could not quite fathom. Then they just... stood there and stared at him.

Very suspicious.

After a long while, Odin returned, holding another fetter in his hands. Unlike the previous ones, this one was very thin and looked like it couldn't restrain a newborn kitten. Upon closer inspection, when Odin approached him, Fenrir noticed that the fetter was made of some sort of silky material. His confusion increased tenfold. Just what were these guys playing at?

"This is Gleipnir. It looks a little fragile, doesn't it?" said Odin, pulling it as if attempting to tear it himself. "It's stronger than it looks, though. Stronger than the other fetters we tried on you earlier." He passed Gleipnir to Thor, who also pulled it, failed to tear it, and in turn passed it to Tyr. "I do think you could break it, however, if you put some effort into it."

"I don't think he could," snorted Thor. "He's not that strong!"

Fenrir growled. "What in the freezing Niflheim are you talking about?" he snapped. "I'm the strongest in all of the nine worlds! Of course I can break that fetter, fragile or not!"

"Then prove it!" some of the gods jeered.

"Indeed, wolf Fenrir, do prove your strength," said Odin smoothly. "If you do, you will be respected by all, even by us gods. Not only that, but if you can break this fetter, I'll let you and your siblings go."

Fenrir frowned. He might not be as clever as Jormungand or Hel, but even he could tell there was something fishy about this.

"This is some kind of trick, isn't it? That fetter has some kind of spell or something that will make me unable to break it!" he accused.

Odin blinked in apparently genuine surprise. "Not at all! Why, do you think we gods would actually lower ourselves to such cheap tricks?" He said it with such a straight face that Fenrir found himself faltering. Then, he shook his head. No, he wasn't entirely convinced yet. Odin would have to do better than that.

"If you're honest about it, then I want one of you to put your hand in my mouth. If it turns out this was a trick and I can't break free, then I'll bite your damn hand off!"

The gods were very taken aback by this condition and could only glance at each other nervously. No one wanted to put themselves at risk. Fenrir smirked at them in bitter triumph. So it really was a trick...

"Fine. I'll do it," said one voice, catching Fenrir by surprise. The voice wasn't reluctant at all, as one would have expected, but very casual, as if talking about the weather. Tyr stepped forwards and put his right hand into Fenrir's jaws. His gaze met the wolf's, serene, almost bored. "Why do you look so surprised?" Tyr asked him. "There's no trick, so why should I be afraid of losing my hand?"

Fenrir hesitated and, unable to speak clearly, nodded at Odin, who nodded back and ordered his sons to place the fetter.

Fenrir gave it a light tug, still half-expecting it to tear like a worn cloth. It didn't. He then kicked, but the fetter caught tightly. He pulled harder and harder, eventually putting all of his strength into it. The more he struggled, the stronger the band grew. When the gods began to laugh at him, Fenrir finally accepted he had been deceived and snapped his jaws shut, tasting blood when he bit Tyr's hand off.

Still half-convulsing with laughter, some of the gods took a cord hanging from Gleipnir, inserted the cord through a large stone slab, and fastened it deep into the ground. Then, they took a great rock and thrust it even further into the ground as an anchoring peg.

"Bastards!" Fenrir roared after spitting out Tyr's severed hand and opened his jaws widely to try to bite them. One of the warriors took his sword and thrust it into Fenrir's mouth, the hilt on his lower gums and the point on his upper gums. Fenrir tasted blood again, this time his own, and howled in pain and anger.

By the time he fell silent, drained of his energy, the gods were long gone and he was left completely alone in the cold dark.

oOo

In synchrony with Fenrir's pained howls, Hrygda screamed. Beads of sweat rolled down her face and her breathing was coming in quick, harsh gasps, her eyes shut tight and teeth gritting against the pain. One of her sisters brought a cold, wet cloth to her face, cooling it a little and gently wiping the sweat off.

"Where's Fenrir?" Hrygda asked breathlessly. "It's almost time! I want him to be here! I want him to see our children! _Where – is – he?!_" she demanded to know, her voice increasing in volume and pitch with every word. Her throat hurt so much by now that she was choking on her own saliva, but that didn't bother her. She had much more important things to worry about at the moment.

"Please hold on a little longer, Sister," whispered the giantess tending to her.

A moment later, another giantess came into the chamber, her face almost paler than Hrygda's.

Hrygda gave her a hopeful look. "Well? Did you fetch Fenrir?"

"I'm sorry, Mistress, but we couldn't find Fenrir anywhere," said the other giantess, with a shake of her head. "He wasn't in his house, and..." She paused to gulp convulsively, her eyes bright and wide with alarm. "Actually, there was no one home at all. And I heard... rumours... all over Ironwood... Rumours that Fenrir and his siblings were taken prisoners by the gods themselves and exiled for life."

Hrygda almost couldn't understand what she was hearing through all the pain and the sheer absurdity of it all. Fenrir... taken prisoner... gods... exiled...

When realisation downed on her, she felt as though her heart had just been pierced by an icy dagger, and this pain was so overwhelming that she almost forgot her physical pain. Her breathing got more and more erratic, her eyes stinging.

Fenrir... Fenrir was gone?! Exiled for life by the gods themselves. This meant she was never going to see him again. Never.

To think they hadn't even had the chance to say farewell... They hadn't even spoken to each other in so long, all because of a silly fight. How unbearably unfortunate and _unfair_ that they would be set apart on such bad terms. If only Hrygda had known! This wasn't how things were supposed to be! This was supposed to be the happiest day of her life!

She sobbed bitterly, cursing the fates, the gods, Fenrir, and herself.

Then, two whining voices cut through her own cries.

"Mistress, please don't cry," said the midwife. "You should greet your sons with a smile on your lips. Must your sad face and tears be the first thing they see in their lives?"

Hrygda didn't feel like smiling at all, until she caught sight of two baby wolves in the midwife's arms. Before she knew it, the smile was there on her lips, just as it should be. Weakly, her arms shaking, she held out her hands to take her newborn children. Tears welled up in her eyes again, but this time, there was much happiness mixed in with the lingering grief.

"Skoll," she said and kissed one of them in the forehead lightly. She repeated the gesture on the other and whispered, "Hati." The chamber suddenly looked much dimmer and felt very cold. "I'll make sure you both grow to be as strong as your father. Maybe... then... you'll be... able to... avenge..." she trailed off and finally passed out from the pain that afflicted both body and mind.

oOo

A lone, winged figure crossed the sky at such a speed that one might have mistaken it for a shooting star.

If Loki weren't so preoccupied, he would have been quite proud of the effect.

Having returned from his long trip around the worlds, Loki had met with a rather unusual and alarming reception from his ever-so-faithful wife Sigyn. She had not hurried to embrace and kiss him, like she always did. She had not even smiled. Her eyes, which held a perpetual melancholy, had been bright with unshed tears.

Despite her depressed mood, she had been more than willing to fill him in on the latest events.

Just remembering it made Loki curse out loud again and again. Good grief, he just left for a little while to have some fun, and his giant children pulled such a stunt! It was... infuriatingly stupid! He had thought that they would have more sense than that. They almost deserved what they got for their stupidity. After all the trouble Loki had gone through to keep them a secret from the gods...

Of course, Loki had always known, deep down, that something like this would happen eventually. Admittedly, Odin's choices of punishment surprised and intrigued Loki quite a bit. Oh, it was much better than what he had expected; Loki had believed that the gods would want to hunt the giant children down and kill them when they found out. So, really, the giants should thank Odin for small mercies. At least they were alive and relatively unharmed.

Or so he had heard from the other gods. Truth be told, Loki hadn't seen his children. He couldn't go to Hel unless he lost his life in an undignified way, and Odin had expressly forbidden him from seeing Fenrir. He was only allowed to visit Jormungand – _visit_, not help – but Odin might as well have forbidden him from seeing the serpent as well. Loki didn't much care for large bodies of water, and he had absolutely no intention of braving the sea just to talk to his most estranged son. What would he even say to him?

Another small mercy from Odin was that Angrboda had been spared. As soon as he'd heard about it, Loki had taken off Asgard and flown as quickly as he could to Ironwood. He made it in record time.

He landed with a heavy thud, slightly unbalanced, and leant against a tree to catch his breath. He wasn't really used to such intense physical exertion, and even if he had been, flying from Asgard to Ironwood so fast would still be very taxing.

He staggered a little and hurried into Angrboda's abode, calling out her name. There was no reply. Feeling his heart sink, Loki searched the entire house, thinking that perhaps Angrboda was unconscious or otherwise unable to reply. However, she was nowhere to be found.

He exited the abode and took to the air again, his eyes frantically searching every corner of the forest. Had Odin lied about leaving Angrboda behind, or had she simply left on her own?

For hours and hours he looked for her to no avail. He paused for a moment, his feet touching the ground once more, and gazed up at the full moon. He vaguely wondered if she was also looking at the moon at this exact moment. He hoped she was. No matter the distance between them, the moon would connect them if they both looked at it. Who knew, maybe the moon, through this connection, would guide him to Angrboda, and vice-versa.

He shook his head, smiling ruefully to himself. He must be more tired than he'd thought, to be thinking of such silly ideas.

Nevertheless, he began to walk without really paying attention to where he was going, his eyes on the moon above. It was rather relaxing, he rationalised to himself.

A quiet murmur tore his gaze from the moon and brought it back to the earth. It was very dark, so it took a moment for his eyes to adjust and be able to see what was right ahead of him. Once he made out the figure who was huddled on the ground, leaning against a large tree, Loki felt his heart skip a beat, and then immense relief flooded his senses.

"Found you," he said softly, affectionately. Angrboda raised her head slowly, but her eyes were wide with wonder.

"Loki?" she whispered, looking like she had just seen a ghost. Loki almost frowned in concern, but managed to keep up his warm, reassuring smile.

"Yes, Angrboda, I'm here," he replied and stretched out his arms a little, silently calling her to him. On cue, she stood up right away and staggered towards him. Loki held her firmly, but gently, when she collapsed against him.

"Loki..." She sobbed, the sound coming out muffled against his chest. Loki held her close and caressed her head, slender fingers weaving around long strands of hair.

"Are you all right?" he asked. She pulled back so she could meet his gaze.

"Loki, you have to help our children!"

Loki just looked at her for a moment.

"I'm sorry. I can't," he said, feeling genuine regret for once. "I've already tried to reason with Odin. There's nothing we can do about it."

"But—" Resignation fell over Angrboda's eyes before she could even get another word out and she slumped back against Loki. He began to soothe her again when he felt her entire body shake.

He felt quite distraught himself – an usual occurrence in itself. Although he hadn't been close to his children, he still felt sorry for them. They were so young; they probably didn't even understand why they had been banished. They had done nothing to deserve it, not really. But the most painful thing was to see Sigyn and Angrboda in this state. Both had been badly affected by all this, and Loki was unable to do a thing to help them. He hated feeling so helpless and awkward.

"I'm taking you back to Asgard," he said, desperate to say something that would break Angrboda out of her despair. "I've talked to Sigyn, and she said she's okay with it. I don't care what the other gods say. What do you say, Angrboda? Now we can be together every day, hm?"

Instead of cheering up, Angrboda fisted his shirt, her sharp nails digging into his skin and making him flinch.

"I want my children back..." she said, almost voicelessly. Her face was contorted in a grimace, as though she were in physical pain.

"I'm sorry, Angrboda." He frowned and looked at the moon again, unable to bear the sight of his lover's misery a moment longer. "One day..." he murmured in her ear. "I promise you that, one day, they will be free again. And we will be reunited. One day, Angrboda, we will be a whole family again."

_**The End**_


End file.
